Illinois  History  ^nd 
Lincoln  Collections 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2019  with  funding  from 
University  of  Illinois  Urbana-Champaign 


https://archive.org/details/murderinallagesb00pink_0 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


BEING  A 

HISTORY  OF  HOMICIDE  FROM  THE  EARLIEST  TIMES,  WITH  THE 
MOST  CELEBRATED  MURDER  CASES  FAITHFULLY 
REPORTED,  ARRANGED  UNDER  CONTROL¬ 
LING  MOTIVES  AND  UTILIZED  TO 
SUPPORT  THE  THEORY 
OF  HOMICIDAL 
IMPULSE 


BY 

MATTHEW  WORTH  PINKERTON 

PRINCIPAL  PINKERTON  &  CO.’S  UNITED  STATES  DETECTIVE  AGENCY 


WITH  SIXTEEN  FULL-PAGE  ILLUSTRATIONS 


CHICAGO 

A.  E.  PINKERTON  &  CO. 
Suite  803,  No.  215  Dearborn  Street 


Copyright,  189s, 

By  MATTHEW  WORTH  PINKERTON 


CONTENTS 


A 


i 

S 


PAGE 

CHAPTER  I.— INTRODUCTION .  i 

Many  theories  as  to  the  origin  of  evil — Their  discussion  unprofit¬ 
able — Virtue  and  vice  contending  forces — All  conscious  of  this 
inward  conflict — The  question  Qf  heredity — Demoralizing 
effects  of  many  stories  of  crime — All  fiction  not  of  this  class — 
Aim  of  the  author — Plan  of  the  present  volume — Use  of  ficti¬ 
tious  illustrations — Aristotle’s  views  of  fiction — Crime  dimin¬ 
ishing — Objections  to  this  view  considered — Reasons  why 
increase  of  crime  is  only  apparent — A  brighter  era  dawning. 


CHAPTER  II.— THE  HOMICIDAL  IMPULSE .  io 

Enormity  of  the  crime  of  murder — Noble  acts  of  self-sacrifice — 
Contrast  of  virtue  and  vice — How  to  completely  suppress  crime 
— The  first  murder — Cain’s  motives  and  provocations — First 
instance  of  homicidal  impulse — Milton’s  account  of  the  first 
murder — Defenders  of  Cain:  Lord  Byron — The  world  growing 
better — Does  the  homicidal  impulse  exist? — First  inquiry  of 
the  detective:  the  murderer’s  motive — Absence  of  reasonable 
motives  in  many  cases — Impulse  to  kill  probably  universal — 
Cain  influenced  by  it — Scriptural  authority  supporting  impulse 
theory — Disposition  to  take  life  manifest  in  children — Men 
delight  in  taking  animal  life — Instance  of  Tiberius  Caesar — 
Nero  placated  the  people  by  pandering  to  this  impulse — Uni¬ 
versal  interest  in  murder  stories — Horrible  accidents  repel 
instead  of  attracting — Morbid  mind  of  Edgar  Allen  Poe — Poe’s 
Murrella ;  a  good  instance  of  homicidal  impulse — Cases  of  Booth 
and  Lincoln,  Guiteau  and  Garfield — “Jack  the  Ripper’’  and 
the  “Nick  of  the  Woods’’ — Self-justification  of  crime:  Manfred 
— Malthus  on  “Overpopulation” — Aim  of  the  work — Satirical 
criticisms  on  Malthus  seriously  taken — Evil  effects  of  these 
works. 

iii 


IV 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

CHAPTER  III.— A  CURIOUS  INSTANCE  OF  THE  HOMI¬ 
CIDAL  IMPULSE .  27 

A  strange  story  of  crime — Murder  of  Jacques  Moulin — Absence  of 
all  apparent  motives — The  old  man  with  the  wooden  leg — His 
very  plausible  story — Murder  of  Auguste  Vivier — A  third  death : 
the  wooden-legged  man  again — A  French  police  examination 
sixty-five  years  ago — Armande  Geraud  and  his  volume  of 
Malthus — The  English  maid  and  the  Prussian  valet — Execution 
of  an  innocent  man — Attempted  assassination  of  Mrs.  Stuart — 

The  wooden-legged  philosopher  again — Armande  Geraud 
arrested:  a  second  fruitless  examination — A  mysterious  meet¬ 
ing  at  Wittenberg — Strange  murder  in  a  cafd — Arrest  of  the 
tall  stranger — Gottlieb  Rinhalter,  alias  Armande  Grimm — 

The  secret  of  the  wooden  leg — History  of  the  murderer’s 
life — A  true  disciple  of  Malthus — Plan  of  the  Wittenberg 
murder — Awful  crimes  committed  by  Croc — He  experiences 
qualms  of  conscience — His  opinions  of  great  men  and  noted 
murderers — His  attempt  to  murder  his  benefactress — Hoist 
with  his  own  petard — Croc  a  victim  of  the  homicidal  impulse. 

CHAPTER  IV.— MOTIVES  FOR  HOMICIDE— REVENGE:  NU¬ 
MEROUS  CASES .  43 

Scope  and  plan  of  present  work — Principal  motives  for  homicide — 
Egotism,  or  the  love  of  self — Revenge  a  fruitful  cause  of  mur¬ 
der — Maximilian  Wyndham,  an  instance  of  revenge — History 
of  Maximilian’s  father — His  death  due  to  persecution — Fearful 
scourging  of  Maximilian’s  mother:  her  death — Sad  fate  of  his 
sisters — Maximilian’s  vow  of  vengeance — The  first  blow  struck 
— Many  undetected  murders — Wyndham ’s  plan  of  vengeance — 
Assassination  of  the  executioner — Methods  of  the  band  of 
avengers — Crucifixion  of  the  jailer — Maximilian  secretly  marries 
— Murder  of  his  wife’s  grandfather — Maximilian’s  wife  dies 
and  he  commits  suicide — Extract  from  his  remarkable  con¬ 
fession — Hatred  of  vice  an  encouraging  sign — Suggestion  from 
a  detective’s  standpoint — Beatrice  Cenci,  the  “Beautiful  Par¬ 
ricide” — Conflicting  accounts  of  the  celebrated  murder — Not 
the  wronged  and  beautiful  woman  she  has  been  represented — 
Atrocious  case  of  Thomas  Simmons — An  instance  of  revenge 
and  the  homicidal  impulse — The  author’s  experience — Murder 
not  the  usual  end  of  revenge — William  Farmery,  the  matricide 
— The  murder  of  Rose  Weldon,  a  Chicago  case — Killed  because 
she  procured  a  divorce  from  a  bigamist — A  case  of  mistaken 
clemency. 


CONTENTS 


v 

TAGE 

CHAPTER  V.  —  CUPIDITY  —  LACENAIRE  —  THE  “THREE 
ITALIANS” .  65 

The  right  of  property  a  paramount  one — Cupidity  the  cause  of  most 
crimes — Murder  usually  the  result  of  mixed  motives — Awful 
prevalence  of  homicide  in  the  past — The  vicious  as  well  as  the 
virtuous  associate  together — “Honor  among  thieves,”  a  fallacy 
— Qhardon,  the  impostor — An  awful  double-murder — Police 
examinations  in  France — A  plan  to  murder  for  gain — A  crim¬ 
inal  partnership  and  a  trap — Assault  on  the  bank-clerk — Arrest 
of  the  murderers  through  lack  of  “honor” — Lacenaire  in  prison: 
poses  as  philosopher  and  poet — Sensational  murder  trials 
always  attractive — Lacenaire’ s  reasons  for  denouncing  his 
accomplices — Lacenaire ’s  last  adieu — Awful  death  of  the  poet- 
assassin — Lacenaire  a  victim  of  the  homicidal  impulse — Case 
of  the  “Three  Italians” — The  awful  crime  discovered — A 
remarkable  identification — The  murderers’  confession,  their 
trial  and  execution. 

CHAPTER  VI.— CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE— SEVERAL 
CASES . . .  82 

Bad  results  of  undetected  murders — Case  narrated  by  Edgar  Allen 
Poe — A  murder  without  an  apparent  clue — Logical  methods  of 
the  amateur  detective — Story  of  the  crime — A  genuine  detective 
— Methods  of  Sherlock  Holmes — The  author’s  experience — The 
Bradford-Hayes  case — A  conviction  on  purely  circumstantial 
evidence — Bradford  technically  innocent — Comparison  with  the 
Probst  case — Remarkable  case  of  William  Shaw — Trial  and 
execution  of  Shaw — Letter  of  Catherine  Shaw — Reparation  to 
Shaw’s  memory — Circumstantial  evidence  generally  reliable — 
Experience  of  the  author — The  Latimer  case :  a  most  atrocious 
murder — Arrival  and  peculiar  bearing  of  young  Latimer — 
Damaging  circumstantial  evidence  against  him — His  conduct 
in  Detroit — Sentenced  to  life-imprisonment — Murders  a  turn¬ 
key  and  escapes  from  the  penitentiary — His  recapture — The 
crime  not  strictly  matricide — Latimer  an  instance  of  inherited 
criminality. 

CHAPTER  VII.— THE  WEBSTER-PARKMAN  CASE— CIRCUM¬ 
STANTIAL  EVIDENCE .  102 

Mysterious  disappearance  of  Dr.  George  Parkman — Dr.  Webster’s 
statement — Opinions  of  experts — Discovery  of  human  remains 

I  by  the  college  janitor — Trial  of  Dr.  Webster — Prominence  of 

parties  excites  great  interest — Remarkable  array  of  circum¬ 
stantial  evidence — Convincing  evidence  of  the  false  teeth — 


VI 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Unusual  actions  of  Dr.  Webster— An  attempt  at  suicide — The 
doctor  confronted  with  the  remains — Similarity  of  Webster 
case  with  that  of  Eugene  Aram — Webster’s  misleading  letters 
to  the  authorities — Testimony  as  to  the  good  character  of  Dr. 
Webster — Attack  made  upon  circumstantial  evidence — Dr. 
Webster  addresses  the  jury — The  condemned  man  solemnly  as¬ 
serts  his  innocence — In  a  petition  for  clemency  he  makes  a  full 
confession — Circumstantial  account  of  the  last  interview — The 

4 

fatal  blow  struck  in  a  moment  of  blind  rage — The  disposition 
of  the  body — He  acknowledges  the  justice  Of  his  sentence — 

The  motive  of  the  crime — May  have  been  a  deliberate  murder. 

CHAPTER  VIII.— TWO  ATROCIOUS  MURDER  CASES .  116 

The  famous  Dearing  case — The  Dearing  family — The  arrival  of 
Anton  Probst — Discovery  of  the  massacre — A  murder  that 
shocked  the  world — Movements  of  Probst:  his  arrest — Trial  of 
Anton  Probst — Only  circumstantial  evidence  introduced — 
Career  of  Probst  in  this  country — Probst's  conviction — His  con¬ 
fession  in  detail — Execution  of  the  murderer — Cupidity  clearly 
the  only  motive — The  homicidal  impulse  strong  in  Probst — 
Probst  an  instance  of  extreme  depravity — The  homicidal 
impulse  a  dangerous  possession — The  Druse  case — A  tell-tale 
cloud  of  smoke — Arrest  of  mother  and  daughter — The  daugh¬ 
ter’s  story  of  the  crime — Disposition  of  the  remains — The  two 
convicted :  the  mother  hanged — A  case  of  inherited  criminality 
and  homicidal  impulse. 

CHAPTER  IX.  —  CUPIDITY— “BURKING”  — PRELLER-MAX- 

WELL  CASE .  135 

Origin  of  term  “Burking” — Mysterious  disappearance  of  poor  per¬ 
sons — “Daft  Jamie”  and  Mary  Campbell — Scarcity  of  “sub¬ 
jects”  for  dissection — Burke  and  his  accomplice  arrested — 
Burke’s  death-trap — Story  told  by  the  Grays — The  noted  trial 
begun — Hare’s  story  of  the  crime — Murder  on  a  wholesale 
basis — Mrs.  McDougal  driven  from  Edinburgh — Release  of 
Hare:  his  disappearance — Burke’s  confession:  revolting  dis¬ 
closures — Execution  of  Burke — Burking  in  London — Bishop  and 
Williams — Their  execution:  public  excitement — An  Act  of 
Parliament  results  from  Burking — Preller-Maxwell  case — Dis¬ 
appearance  of  Preller — Discovery  of  his  remains  in  a  trunk — 
Maxwell  arrested  in  New  Zealand — The  prisoner  denies  his 
identity — His  careless  manner  after  the  murder — Trial  of  Max¬ 
well — His  testimony:  an  ingenious  story — Similarity  to  the 
Webster-Parkman  case — Experience  of  the  author — Conviction 
and  execution  of  Maxwell — Motive  for  the  crime. 


CONTENTS 


Vll 
PAGE 

CHAPTER  X.— EUGENE  ARAM .  149 

A  celebrated  case — One  weakness  of  historical  novels — Sketch  of 
Aram’s  life — Aram’s  two  strange  acquaintances — Remarkable 
scheme  of  Aram  and  Houseman — Clarke  falls  into  the  trap — 
Mysterious  disappearance  of  Clarke — Aram  acquitted  of  swin¬ 
dling:  his  subsequent  movements— His  crime  seemingly  safe 
from  detection — Arrest  of  Houseman — His  incriminating 
remark — Bones  of  Clarke  discovered — Confession  of  Houseman 
— Arrest  and  trial  of  Aram — His  remarkable  speech  in  his  own 
defense — He  urges  his  own  good  character — Denies  that  the 
bones  were  those  of  Clarke — Shows  that  human  bones  were 
often  found  in  Yorkshire — Strongly  attacks  Houseman’s  testi¬ 
mony — Cites  instances  of  wrongful  convictions — Pronounced 
effect  of  Aram’s  speech — Remarkable  charge  of  the  judge  to 
the  jury — Aram  convicted  and  sentenced  to  death — He  attempts 
to  take  his  own  life — His  defense  of  suicide — Aram’s  written 
confession — His  two  writings  contrasted — “The  Dream  of 
Eugene  Aram.” 

CHAPTER  XI.— JUDICIAL  MURDER .  171 

This  crime  a  rare  one — Judicial  murders  during  the  “Reign  of 
Terror” — The  Popish  Plot — Bitter  religious  prejudices  of  the 
time — The  political  situation — Titus  Oates:  he  invents  the 
Popish  Plot — Murder  of  Sir  Edmondsbury  Godfrey — Oates 
supported  by  other  perjurers — Wholesale  judicial  murders — 
Trial  of  Oates  for  perjury — His  terrible  punishment — Released 
from  prison  and  pensioned — Judge  George  Jeffreys — His  in¬ 
famous  character — Jeffreys  becomes  the  tool  of  James  II. — 
Judicial  murder  of  Algernon  Sidney — Defeat  and  execution  of 
Monmouth — Fearful  murders  of  Colonel  Percy  Kirke — The 
“Bloody  Assizes” — The  first  victim:  Lady  Alice  Lisle — Seventy- 
four  hanged  in  Dorsetshire — Bloody  harvest  in  Somersetshire 
— Methods  of  the  chief-justice — Fate  of  Abraham  Holmes,  the 
zealot — Christopher  Battiscombe  —  The  Hewling  brothers — 
Extent  of  Jeffreys’  crimes — Hundreds  transported  as  slaves — 
Honors  for  Jeffreys — His  miserable  end. 

CHAPTER  XII.— ASSASSINATION .  194 

A  most  detestable  crime — Saul’s  assassination  of  Abner — His  slay¬ 
ing  of  Absalom — Judith  decapitates  Holof ernes — Assassination 
a  most  common  crime — Thomas  a  Becket:  his  romantic  his¬ 
tory — Becket  brave  and  dissolute  in  his  youth— Appointed 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury — Becket  changes  the  whole  course 
of  his  life— Quarrel  of  Becket  audHeury  H,— The  Archbishop 


CONTENTS 


assassinated  in  Canterbury  Cathedral — Catherine  de  Medici;  a 
depraved  woman — Her  remarkable  duplicity — Catherine  favors 
the  Huguenots — As  regent,  she  rules  France  and  corrupts  her 
son — She  plans  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew’s  day — Assas¬ 
sination  of  Admiral  Coligny — The  most  awful  massacre  in 
history — Details  of  the  horrible  event — The  civilized  world 
horrified — Catherine  said  to  have  poisoned  her  son— Assassina¬ 
tion  of  the  Duke  of  Guise— Assassination  of  Henry  III. — 
Ravaillac  kills  Henry  IV. — Terrible  death  of  the  regicide. 

CHAPTER  XIII.— ASSASSINATION  (Continued) .  211 

Character  of  William  of  Orange — Enormous  sum  offered  for  his 
assassination — First  attempt  upon  the  prince’s  life— Second 
unsuccessful  attempt — Three  more  efforts  made — Assassination 
of  the  Prince  of  Orange — Awful  punishment  of  the  assassin — 
Attempt  upon  the  life  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte — Damiens  stabs 
Louis  Philippe — Infernal  machine  of  Fieschi — Charlotte  Corday 
— She  kills  Murat — Her  heroic  death — Romantic  death  of  Adam 
Lux — Attempted  assassination  of  Louis  Napoleon — Assassina¬ 
tion  of  President  Carnot — Macari  fires  upon  Alfonso  of  Spain 
— King  John  of  England  an  assassin — He  poisons  “Maud  the 
Fair” — His  cruel  murder  of  Prince  Arthur — Attempt  to  kill 
George  III.  of  England — First  attempt  to  assassinate  Queen 
Victoria — Other  attempts  upon  her  life — Plan  to  murder  Sir 
Robert  Peel — Assassination  of  Paul  of  Russia— Numerous 
attempts  to  kill  Alexander  II. — Killed  at  last  by  a  bomb — 
William  I.  of  Germany  fired  upon  by  an  anarchist — Assaulted 
by  Dr.  Nobling,  who  commits  suicide. 

CHAPTER  XIV. —ASSASSINATION  IN  AMERICA  — THE 

MAFIA .  233 

Assassination  of  Abraham  Lincoln — Lincoln’s  death  not  planned 
by  Southern  leaders — Movements  of  Lincoln  on  the  fatal  day — 
Booth  shoots  the  President — Attempt  upon  the  life  of  Wil¬ 
liam  H.  Seward — Flight  and  subsequent  death  of  Booth — Trial 
of  the  conspirators :  three  executed — Trial  of  John  H.  Surratt 
— Assassination  of  James  A.  Garfield — Remarkable  letter 
found  upon  Guiteau — Statement  of  Attorney  Corkhill — Death 
of  President  Garfield — Trial  and  execution  of  Guiteau — Causes 
of  the  crime — Assassination  of  Carter  H.  Harrison — Similarity 
between  Prendergast  and  Guiteau — Natural  advantages  of 
Sicily:  a  hotbed  of  crime— Assassination  common  in  Sicily — 

The  Mafia :  murderous  acts  of  the  society — Denied  that  it  is  a 
complete  organization  —  The  modern  Bravos — They  terrorize 
society — The  Malini  and  the  Pasa — Objects  of  Mafia  generally 


CONTENTS 


ix 

PAGE 

accomplished  by  intrigues — Difficulty  of  convicting  criminals 
in  Sicily — Shooting  of  Italian  murderers  in  New  Orleans — 
Statement  of  St.  John  Brenon — His  account  of  the  Mafia. 

« 

CHAPTER  XV.— THE  ASSASSINS .  252 

Growth  and  character  of  Islam — Cause  of  its  decline — The  Ismael- 
ites — Hassan-ben-Sabbeh  organizes  the  Assassins— Plan  of  the 
organization — Code  of  introduction — Ambition  of  Hassan-ben- 
Sabbeh — Systematic  assassination  begun — A  terrible  revenge 
— Death  of  Hassan-ben-Sabbeh — Methods  of  the  Assassins: 
poison  and  the  knife  —  Statement  of  Heckethorn  —  Rare 
fidelity  of  the  Assassins — Fanaticism  and  clannishness  the  base 
of  this — Origin  of  the  term  Assassin — Transported  to  Paradise : 
the  V alley  of  Mulebad — Assassins  commit  suicide  when  ordered 
to  do  so — V ast  power  and  extensive  operations  of  the  Assassins 
— Decline  of  the  organization — A  long  list  of  rulers — Practical 
extinction  of  the  society — The  homicidal  impulse  strong  in  the 
Assassins — The  world  moving  in  the  right  direction. 

CHAPTER  XVI.— THE  THUGS  OF  INDIA .  268 

Religious  debasement  of  India — Kalee,  the  goddess  of  destruction 
— The  patroness  of  the  Thugs — Thuggee  a  religion  based  on 
murder — Origin  of  the  terms  Thug  and  Strangler — Efforts  to 
suppress  thuggee — Statement  of  a  British  officer — Modes  of 
securing  victims — Corruption  of  the  young — Thugs  trained 
from  the  cradle — Deception  as  a  fine  art — The  Thugs  arrant 
cowards— Methods  of  killing  victims — Report  of  an  English 
commission — Disposition  of  bodies  by  Thugs — Marked  victims 
never  allowed  to  escape — Simulated  grief  of  the  mourners — 
Organization  of  the  Thugs — Aristocracy  recognized  by  them — 
Their  system  of  cabalistic  signs — Division  of  plunder — Thuggee 
upon  the  water — Methods  of  the  river-Thugs — The  Sothas,  or 
“confidence  men” — Little  known  about  the  Thugs  in  India — 
How  victims  were  killed  on  boats — Homicidal  impulse  the 
Thugs’  ruling  passion — Kalee’s  gifts  to  her  votaries — The 
sacred  pickaxe — An  object  of  absolute  reverence — Methods  of 
educating  the  young — Initiation  into  the  horrid  order — Certain 
castes  and  classes  exempted  from  murder — The  Thugs’  rever¬ 
ence  for  the  sacred  cow — Superstitions  of  the  Thugs  adopted 
by  Mohammedans. 

CHAPTER  XVII.— SECRET  POISONERS .  290 

Great  prevalence  of  secret  poisoning — Poisoning  in  England — 
Poisoning  among  the  ancient  Romans — The  infamous  poisoner, 
Locusta — The  Empress  Agrippina  a  poisoner — Fate  of 


X 


\ 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Britannicus — The  Greeks  used  poisons  for  executing  criminals 
— The  infamous  Borgia  family — Roderigo  Borgia  dies  by  his 
own  poison — Lucretia  Borgia  a  noted  poisoner — Heironyma  La 
Spara,  poison-seller  of  Rome — Toffania  of  Naples  and  her 
“Acquetta” — Her  wholesale  operations — Fear  of  poison  the 
origin  of  covered  dishes — Madame  Brinvilliers,  noted  poisoner 
of  Paris — She  learns  the  art  from  Sainte  Croix — She  kills  her 
father  and  two  brothers — She  administers  poison  to  her  hus¬ 
band — Her  lover  saves  him  with  antidotes — Sainte  Croix  dies 
while  compounding  poisons — He  leaves  a  remarkable  document 
— A  detective  flatters  Madame  Brinvilliers  and  arrests  her — 
Conviction  and  execution  of  the  parricide — Poisoning  becomes 
an  epidemic  in  France — Lavigoreaux  and  Lavoisin,  two  infa¬ 
mous  poisoners — Their  ingenious  methods  and  horrible  death — 
Several  noble  people  implicated  by  Lavoisin — More  than  two 
hundred  poisoners  executed  in  two  years — The  poisoners  of 
India — Methods  of  Indian  poisoners — Revival  of  poisoning  in 
England  during  the  present  century. 

CHAPTER  XVIII.— DUELING .  308 

Religious  or  superstitious  notion  underlying  early  dueling — Wager 
of  battle — Recent  appeal  to  wager  of  battle — Origin  of  wager 
of  battle — Meeting  of  the  Horatii  and  the  Curiatii — Dueling 
originated  in  Germany — Dueling  endorsed  by  many  kings — 

The  practice  becomes  almost  universal — The  Christian  Church 
opposes  dueling— Henry  II.  of  France  opposes  it — Religious 
quarrels  stimulated  dueling  in  France — Attitude  of  Cardinal 
Richelieu  towards  dueling — Firm  stand  of  Louis  XIV.  against 
it — Dueling  in  England — Its  prevalence  during  the  reign  of 
Charles  II. — Duelist  clubs  in  London — Meeting  between  £ir 
George  Orton  and  Sir  James  Stewart — Howard-Sydney  duel — 

The  Duke  of  Buckingham  kills  the  Duke  of  Shrewsbury — Hyde 
Park,  London,  a  noted  “Field  of  Honor” — “The  Ring”  in 
Hyde  Park — The  Mohun-Hamilton  affair,  a  double  duel — 
Several  famous  duels  fought  in  “The  Ring” — Sheridan  - 
Matthews  affair — A  duel  under  difficulties — Prevalence  of 
dueling  in  England  a  century  ago — Decline  of  dueling  in  Eng¬ 
land. 

CHAPTER  XIX.— DUELING  (Continued)— NOTED  AMERICAN 
DUELS .  325 

Dueling  in  Scotland — Account  of  a  duel  by  Scott — Duel  between 
Lochiel  and  Pellew — Dueling  in  Ireland — Many  leading  Irish¬ 
men  duelists — Joseph  II.  of  Germany  discourages  dueling — 


CONTENTS 


xi 

PAGE 

Duels  in  German  universities — Dueling  in  modern  France — 
Noted  French  duelists — Peculiar  duels  of  North  American 
Indians — Mexican  duels:  sudden  affrays — Fighting  with  knives 
in  a  dark  room — Dueling  on  horseback — Dueling  in  the  United 
States — North  and  South  contrasted — Universal  punishment  of 
dueling — The  Burr-Hamilton  duel — Hamilton’s  letter  to  Burr 
— Burr’s  reply:  their  correspondence — The  meeting:  details 
of  the  duel — Death  of  Hamilton — His  son  killed  in  a  duel — The 
Decatur-Barron  duel — Story  of  the  quarrel — The  meeting: 
death  of  Decatur — Decatur’s  career  as  a  duelist — The  Cilley- 
Graves  duel — Action  of  the  House  of  Representatives — Meeting 
between  Andrew  Jackson  and  Charles  Dickinson — General 
Jackson’s  great  provocation — Details  of  the  affair — The  Brode- 
rick-Terry  duel — Dueling  well-nigh  extinct. 

CHAPTER  XX.— THE  CRONIN  CASE .  345 

A  remarkable  and  complex  case — It  causes  intense  and  widespread 
excitement — Outline  of  Dr.  Cronin’s  life — Strongly  identified 
with  the  cause  of  Ireland — “The  Triangle” — Cronin  presses 
charges — Re-organization  of  the  Clan-na-Gael — Dr.  Cronin 
called  to  O’Sullivan’s — The  police  notified  of  his  absence — 
Mysterious  wagon  seen  by  two  policemen — Bloody  trunk  found 
in  Lake  View — Systematic  search  for  the  body — Suggestions 
that  Cronin  was  a  traitor — Frank  Woodruff  makes  a  so-called 
confession — Cronin’s  enemies  report  that  he  is  in  Canada — 
Plan  to  blacken  Cronin’s  name — Dr.  Cronin’s  body  found  and 
identified — Discovery  of  cottage  where  Cronin  was  murdered 
— Story  told  by  the  Carlsons — Cottage  rented  by  Frank  Wil¬ 
liams — Furniture  is  moved  in — Frank  Williams  writes  Carlson 
— O’Sullivan  connected  with]  the  plot — Tracing  the  furniture 
— Statement  of  William  Mertes — Expressman  who  moved  the 
furniture  found — Police  officer  Daniel  Coughlin  implicated — 
Coughlin  engages  a  horse  and  buggy — Coughlin  tries  to  silence 
Dinan — His  explanation  to  Captain  Schaack — Arrest  of  Officer 
Coughlin — The  mysterious  Smith  appears — Coughlin,  O’Sulli¬ 
van  and  Whalen  indicted — The  coroner’s  inquest — Alexander 
Sullivan  investigated — Finding  of  the  jury — Alexander  Sulli¬ 
van  arrested  and  released — Suspicion  falls  on  Martin  Burke — 
Identified  through  a  photograph — Burke  arrested  at  Winnipeg 
— Identified  and  brought  to  Chicago — Tin  box  containing 
Cronin’s  clothing  discovered — Indictment  of  the  murderers — 
Investigation  of  Camp  Twenty — The  famous  trial  begins — Bold 
attempt  to  bribe  the  jury — Sensational  testimony  of  Paulina 
Hoertel — Knives  found  upon  Coughlin  indentified  as  Cronin’s — 
Verdict  of  the  jury — Juror  Quiver  generally  denounced— 


CONTENTS 


Xll 


PAGE 

Coughlin  secures  a  new  trial — Death  of  Burke  and  O’Sullivan 
— Second  trial  of  Coughlin — Coughlin  seen  to  enter  the  cottage 
— Sensational  testimony  of  Frank  Bardeen — Coughlin  walking 
behind  wagon  containing  trunk — Strong  testimony  of  Mrs. 
Lizzie  Foy — Plot  discussed  in  her  house — Coughlin’s  incrimi¬ 
nating  statements — Promises  Alexander  Sullivan’s  protection — 
Jury  acquits  Coughlin — A  substantial  failure  of  justice. 


CHAPTER  XXI.— THE  “HAYMARKET  MASSACRE” .  369 

Socialism  and  anarchy — The  great  labor  strikes  of  1886 — Riot  at 
McCormick  works — The  ‘‘Revenge’’  circular — Haymarket 
meeting  called — Extract  from  Spies’  harangue — Incendiary 
speeches — The  police  attempt  to  disperse  the  meeting — The 
deadly  bomb  is  thrown — Fearful  slaughter  of  the  police — Many 
arrests  made — Names  of  those  indicted — Trial  of  the  anarchists 
— Testimony  of  Gottfried  Waller — Plan  of  the  anarchists — 
Justice  of  the  verdict:  Judge  Gary’s  opinion — The  sentence  of 
the  court — Long  speeches  of  the  anarchists — Louis  Lingg’s 
bitter  speech — Suicide  of  Louis  Lingg — Action  of  the  Supreme 
Court — Four  anarchistic  murderers  hanged — Schwab,  Fielden 
and  Neebe  pardoned — Governor  Altgeld’s  savage  assault  upon 
Judge  Gary. 

I  /  v  , 

CHAPTER  XXII.— THE  PALMER  POISONING  CASE .  384 

The  Old  Bailey  in  London — William  Palmer — John  Parsons  Cook 
— Palmer  financially  embarrassed — He  resorts  to  forgery — 
Cook  makes  a  winning — Sudden  illness  of  Cook — What  Mrs. 
Brooks  saw — Palmer  resumes  active  operations — Palmer’s 
broth  makes  a  servant  sick — Palmer’s  visit  to  London — Palmer 
obtains  strychnine — Cook  taken  violently  ill — Palmer  purchases 
more  strychnine — Palmer  administers  pills  to  Cook — Death  of 
John  Parsons  Cook — Palmer  secures  Cook’s  effects — Bamford 
writes  certificate  of  death — The  post-mortem  examination — 
Palmer  induces  the  postmaster  to  open  a  letter — Palmer  sus¬ 
pected  by  Mr.  Stephens — The  poisoner’s  forgeries  exposed — 
Nature  of  strychnine — Views  of  the  attorney-general — Long 
lists  of  expert  witnesses — Analysis  of  Dr.  Taylor — No  trace 
of  strychnine  found — Present  scientific  view — Dying  symp¬ 
toms  indicated  strychnine  poisoning — Palmer  an  expert  in 
poison — The  Palmer  case  still  a  leading  precedent. 


CHAPTER  XXIII.— H.  H.  HOLMES,  THE  MULTI-MURDERER  401 

Two  remarkable  instances  of  the  horn  ic'd  a1  impure — H.  H. 
Holmes  the  arch-murderer— Addicted  tv.)  a. most  every  known 


\ 


< 


CONTENTS 


•  • « 

xm 

PAGE 

crime — The  Pitezel  case,  which  brought  Holmes  to  justice — 

He  receives  a  large  sum  for  his  confession — A  past-master  in 
the  science  of  lying — A  history  that  reads  like  fiction — An 
inventor  discovers  a  horrible  crime — The  dead  body  and  its 
surroundings — Decided  to  be  a  case  of  suicide — Insurance 
scheme  developed — Body  claimed  as  that  of  Pitezel — Holmes 
appears  upon  the  scene:  His  ingenious  letters — Two  conspir¬ 
ators  are  introduced  to  each  other — The  body  identified  as  that 
of  Pitezel — The  insurance  policy  paid — A  breach  of  faith  that 
led  to  Holmes’  detection — Hedgepeth  makes  known  the  insur¬ 
ance  swindle — Holmes  is  located  and  arrested  in  Boston — The 
murderer’s  first  confession — He  presents  quite  a  plausible 
explanation — Mrs.  Pitezel  becomes  communicative — Holmes 
finds  that  he  has  made  a  serious  mistake — His  second  confes¬ 
sion — Pitezel  had  committed  suicide — His  ingenious  story  not 
believed  by  the  authorities — The  prisoner  declares  that  the 
children  are  in  London — Cipher  advertisement  for  Minnie 
Williams — The  Williams  sisters:  Holmes  accuses  Minnie  of 
murder — Officers  believe  that  Holmes  has  killed  the  children — 

A  veteran  detective  starts  to  unravel  the  mystery — Locates 
them  in  Cincinnati  and  Indianapolis — Concluded  that  the  boy 
is  dead — Visits  the  “Castle”  in  Chicago — Holmes  and  his  three 
parties  in  Detroit — The  remains  of  the  two  girls  discovered  in 
Toronto — Geyer  starts  in  quest  of  Howard  Pitezel — A  long  and 
most  discouraging  search — Holmes  found  to  have  rented  a  cot¬ 
tage  at  Irvington — Discovery  of  the  half-burnt  remains  of  a 
boy — They  are  identified  as  those  of  Howard  Pitezel — Holmes 
wanted  in  many  places — Trial  of  Holmes  for  the  murder  of 
Pitezel — Unprecedented  efforts  to  secure  a  continuance — Trial 
of  the  murderer — Holmes  convicted  and  sentenced  to  death — 
Remarkable  confession  of  H.  H.  Holmes — Some  account  of  his 
early  life :  Holmes  a  bigamist — Affects  to  believe  that  he  was 
assuming  the  form  of  the  devil — The  first  of  twenty-seven 
murders — Declares  that  he  was  a  victim  of  the  homicidal 
impulse — Sells  “subjects”  to  medical  colleges — An  assorted  lot 
of  murders — Awful  crime  committed  by  a  confederate — 
Holmes’  “Castle” — A  veritable  murder-den — His  strange 
power  of  fascinating  women — Secures  explanatory  letters  from 
victims  before  killing  them — Sad  fate  of  Emeline  Cigrand — 
Establishes  a  place  for  decoying  innocent  girls — Kills,  and  sells 
the  body  of  his  janitor — Confesses  that  he  burned  a  man  alive 
— Secures  his  money  by  raised  checks — Two  murders  in  which 
he  had  confederates — The  Williams  sisters:  a  horrible  double 
murder — The  famous  Pitezel  murders:  Holmes’  statement — 
Murder  of  B.  F.  Pitezel  the  work  of  a  fiend — Killing  of  How¬ 
ard  Pitezel — The  murderer’s  reflections — Murder  of  the  Pitezel 


XIV 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

girls — Holmes  becomes  sentimental — Execution  of  Holmes: 
his  last  moments — His  last  confession :  dies  with  a  lie  upon  his 
lips — The  Holmes  case  a  difficult  one  to  analyze — The  homi¬ 
cidal  impulse  explains  all  his  actions— Holmes  almost  totally 
depraved — The  moral  of  his  life  and  death. 

• 

CHAPTER  XXIV.— CASE  OF  HARRY  HAYWARD .  432 

A  brother’s  farewell — Discovery  of  Catherine  Ging’s  remains — 
Startling  statement  of  Harry  Hayward — His  long  examination 
— Sensational  letter  of  Elder  Stewart — Arrest  of  Harry  Hay¬ 
ward — Arrest  and  confession  of  Adry  Hayward — Arrest  and 
confession  of  Blixt— Blixt  makes  a  second  confession — Swift 
action  of  the  authorities — The  famous  trial  begun — Testimony 
in  the  case — Conviction  of  Harry  Hayward — Hayward’s 
attempted  escape — Life  imprisonment  for  Blixt — Harry  Hay¬ 
ward  curses  his  brother — They  become  reconciled — Hayward’s 
death:  “I  stand  pat” — Hayward  makes  a  full  confession — 
Sketch  of  his  life — Money  his  god — Driven  to  crime  through 
gambling — His  first  great  crime — Hayward  becomes  a  murderer 
— Becomes  an  incendiary — Plans  many  murders — The  murder 
at  Long  Branch — Brutal  murder  of  a  Chinaman — Case  of 
Catherine  Ging — Hayward  secures  all  her  money — A  scheme 
involving  hypnotism  and  mystery — Harry  exonerates  Adry — 
How  he  hypnotized  Blixt — They  discuss  many  plans — A  fellow- 
feeling  for  Durant — The  ominous  mole — Not  sorry  for  his 
crimes — A  clear  subject  of  homicidal  impulse. 

CHAPTER  XXV.— THEODORE  DURANT,  THE  SAN  FRAN¬ 
CISCO  MONSTER .  451 

A  case  that  rivals  fiction  in  horrors — Almost  unique  in  the  history 
of  crime — The  murderer  and  his  habits — Two  beautiful  girls 
his  victims — Some  account  of  them — Scene  of  the  crimes:  the 
“Hoodoo  Church” — Mysterious  disappearance  of  Blanche 
Lamont — An  awful  discovery  in  the  church — Fiendish  methods 
employed  by  the  murderer — Durant  at  the  party — His  remark¬ 
able  composure — Suspicious  circumstances  against  him — Minnie 
Williams’  purse  found  in  his  pocket — Prediction  of  a  news¬ 
paper — Search  for  the  remains — Awful  discovery  in  the 
church-tower — Disposition  of  the  murdered  girl’s  clothing — 

The  auditorium  and  church-tower:  a  strange  contrast — Durant 
strongly  suspected — Wild  excitement  in  the  city — Durant 
arrested  and  imprisoned — A  clergyman  unjustly  accused — 
Blanche  Lamont’s  rings  sent  to  her  aunt — Action  of  the 
coroner’s  jury— Tbe  trial;  testimony  of  Organist  King  — Pm 


CONTENTS 


xv 

PAGE 

rant  not  at  the  college  April  third — He  takes  the  stand — Fails  to 
help  his  case — His  conviction  and  sentence  to  death — The  law’s 
delays — Durant  four  times  condemned  to  death — Execution  of 
Theodore  Durant — Protests  his  innocence  from  the  scaffold — 
Opinion  of  Rev.  William  Roder — Extract  from  a  newspaper — 
“Papa,  give  me  some  mgre  of  the  roast” — A  difficult  case  to 
classify — Durant  a  perverted  monster. 

CHAPTER  XXVI.— THE  PEARL  BRYAN  MURDER .  467 

A  tragedy  enacted  in  three  States — Discovery  of  the  remains — 
Identification  of  clothing — The  flower  of  the  flock — Arrest  of 
Scott  Jackson — How  he  formed  Pearl’s  acquaintance — Wanted 
a  woman’s  head  to  dissect — Mutual  incriminations — Circum¬ 
stantial  evidence  accumulates — Walling  prevents  Pearl  from 
returning  home — Story  of  Lulu  May  Hollingsworth — Verdict  of 
coroner’s  jury — The  prisoners  removed  to  Kentucky — The 
authorities  in  a  dilemma — Long-sought-for  coachman  found — 
Remarkable  story  of  George  H.  Jackson — Driving  at  the  point 
of  a  revolver — Flight  of  the  frightened  coachman — He  identi¬ 
fies  Walling — Discovery  of  the  carriage — Midnight  procession 
to  scene  of  murder — The  tell-tale  railway  iron — Walling’s 
bloody  overshoes  found — Jackson’s  letters  to  Will  Wood — Trial 
and  conviction  of  the  murderers — Strong  efforts  to  secure 
clemency — Jackson  makes  and  withdraws  a  confession — 
Prisoners  die  protesting  their  innocence — Probably  victims  of 
the  homicidal  impulse. 

CHAPTER  XXVII.— THE  GULDENSUPPE  TRAGEDY .  481 

Sensational  fiction  and  crime — Resemblance  to  Webster  and 
Cronin  cases — A  gruesome  bit  of  flotsam — A  horrible  treasure- 
trove — Expert  opinions  of  remains — An  enterprising  reporter — 
Clue  to  the  murdered  man’s  identity — Mrs.  Augusta  Nack — 

Her  story  as  to  Guldensuppe — The  remains  identified — An 
immoral  household — Wrappings  traced  to  Mrs.  Nack — Missing 
legs  discovered  by  boys — Arrest  of  Mrs.  Nack — The  cottage  at 
Woodside — The  search  for  Martin  Thorn — Thorn’s  confession 
to  Gotha — Details  of  a  horrible  crime — Disposition  of  the 
remains — Arraignment  of  the  murderers — Mrs.  Nack  a  witness 
against  Thom — The  barber’s  version  of  the  murder — Con¬ 
fession  of  Martin  Thorn — Mrs.  Nack  committed  to  prison — 
Execution  of  Martin  Thorn — Homicidal  impulse  plainly  present. 

CHAPTER  XXVIII.—  LUETGERT  CASE .  492 

Three  methods  of  evading  detection — The  famous  Luetgert  case — 

The  means  suggested  the  end — Some  account  of  A.  L.  Luet- 


XVI 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

gert — He  meets  with  business  reverses — His  domestic  relations 
are  not  happy — Disappearance  of  Mrs.  Luetgert — Her  brother’s 
vain  search  for  her — Luetgert  faces  the  police — Fearful  crime 
suggested  to  the  officers — Frank  Bialk’s  strange  story — He  is 
twice  sent  to  a  drug  store — The  famous  middle  vat — Various 
suspicious  circumstances — Conclusion  reached  by  Captain 
Schuettler — Police  search  the  factory — Examine  the  middle 
vat — Discovery  of  Mrs.  Luetgert’s  rings — Luetgert’s  purchase 
of  potash — Breaking  up  the  potash — Luetgert  bribes  Odor- 
owsky  to  kedp  silent — Orders  the  place  cleaned  up — Bones 
and  corset-steels  discovered — Fatal  mistake  of  Luetgert — He 
is  arrested  and  indicted — Trial  of  A.  L.  Luetgert — Gruesome 
experiment  at  the  factory — The  State’s  difficult  task — Luet¬ 
gert’s  young  son  testifies — Important  testimony  of  Mrs.  Tosch 
— Luetgert  visits  Frank  Bialk — Testimony  of  Mrs.  Feldt — 
Luetgert’s  love-letters  read  in  court —  Mrs.  Feldt  identifies 
bloody  knife — Testimony  of  Emma  Schiemicke — Testimony 
of  the  experts — List  of  bones  introduced — Other  witnesses 
of  the  State — Great  efforts  of  the  defense — Efforts  to  prove 
Mrs.  Luetgert  alive — Bearing  of  the  defendant  on  the  trial — 
Testimony  of  William  Charles — Claim  that  Luetgert  was  mak¬ 
ing  3oap — Weakness  of  this  defense — Effort  to  prove  Mrs. 
Luetgert  insane — The  jury  disagrees — Again  arraigned  for 
trial — Stenographers  abandon  the  defense  — Luetgert  takes 
the  stand — Is  sentenced  to  imprisonment  for  life — Luetgert 
an  egotistical  man. 

CHAPTER  XXIX.— INFANTICIDE . . .  509 

Infanticide  a  crime  common  with  savages — Shame  the  leading 

cause  of  infanticide  at  present — Infants  often  sacrificed  to 

heathen  deities — Infanticide  among  the  Greeks — The  Romans 

restricted  it — Exposure  of  infants  common  with  the  Romans — 

The  growth  of  Christianity  checked  infanticide — Abandoned 

infants  largely  sold  as  slaves — Punishment  of  child-murder  by 

the  Romans — Abortion  among  the  pagans — Same  among  the 

Christians — Infanticide  in  India  and  China — Modem  view  of 

the  crime — Foundling  hospitals — Foundling  hospitals  in  France 
$ 

— The  turning-wheel — Recent  changes  in  France — Punish¬ 
ment  of  infanticide  at  present — Ancients  and  moderns  con¬ 
trasted. 

CHAPTER  XXX.  — SUICIDE .  521 

Suicide  condemned  by  enlightened  people — Forbidden  by  the 
Romans — Suicide  of  Samson — Only  four  other  biblical  instances 
— Wholesale  suicide  of  Eleazar  and  his  company — Josephus’ 


CONTENTS  xvii 

PAGE 

description  of  the  slaughter — The  great  historian  placed  in  a 
like  predicament — Brahminism  encourages  suicide — Forms  of 
death  chosen  by  the  Brahmins — Buddhism  favorable  to  suicide 
— Japanese  modes  of  death — Wonderful  composure — Early 
Greeks  opposed  suicide — Philosophy  changes  the  Greek  view 
— Suicide  among  the  Romans — A  common  death — List  of  dis¬ 
tinguished  pagan  suicides — Seneca  eloquently  advocates  sui¬ 
cide — Slight  restrictions  of  the  Roman  law — Cato’s  suicide — 

His  soliloquy  on  immortality — Suicide  of  Tarquin’s  soldiers — 
Remarkable  death  of  Petronius  Arbiter — Singular  end  of  Zeno 
— Many  suicides  due  to  the  Oracles — Suicides  in  Central  Asia — 
Suicides  in  Egypt — Suicide  among  the  northern  barbarians — 
Their  fear  of  a  death  from  old  age — Marked  contrasts  of  the 
Christian  notion — Suicide  among  the  Vikings — Among  the 
Scandinavians — Marked  influence  of  Christianity. 


CHAPTER  XXXI.— SUICIDE  (Continued) .  540 

Christianity  gave  a  new  meaning  to  life — In  two  respects  it  dis¬ 
couraged  suicide — Suicide  among  the  early  Christians — Caused 
by  unbounded  enthusiasm — The  Donatists  strongly  advocated 
suicide — The  Church  formally  condemns  suicide — Suicide  of 
women  to  escape  defilement — St.  Palagia  committed  suicide 
from  this  motive — Suicides  in  monasteries — An  extraordinary 
suicide  from  fanaticism — Efforts  to  check  suicide — Suicide  from 
example:  the  women  of  Miletus — An  epidemic  of  suicides  at 
Lyons — Case  of  Thomas  Chatterton:  a  remarkable  boy — Sui¬ 
cides  of  Jews — Suicidal  imitation  extends  to  places  and 
methods — Unique  methods  employed  by  suicides — Suicide  clubs 
— The  love  of  life  almost  universal — Savages  little  addicted  to 
suicide — The  love  of  life  declines  with  age — Suicide  among 
children — The  instantaneous  suicidal  impulse — The  gradually- 
growing  suicidal  impulse — Rational  suicide :  common  with  the 
ancients — Irrational  suicide — Laws  for  the  suppression  of  sui¬ 
cide — Regulations  for  the  burial  of  suicides. 


CHAPTER  XXXII.— CAPITAL  PUNISHMENT . 

Controversy  over  the  death  penalty — Capital  punishment  a  seem¬ 
ing  necessity — Executions  among  the  ancients — Death  by 
drowning — Burning  to  death — Enormous  extent  of  this  pun¬ 
ishment — Burning  of  Eleanor  Elsom — Boiling  to  death — 
Pressing  to  death :  a  most  cruel  punishment — Form  of  sentence 
to  be  pressed  to  death — Description  of  a  legal  pressing — 
Execution  by  hanging — Ancient  and  modern  modes  of  hanging 


xviii 


CONTENTS 


— Hanging,  drawing  and  quartering — Gibbeting,  or  hanging 
in  chains — Garroting,  a  Spanish  punishment — Breaking  on  the 
wheel — Decapitation  by  the  axe  and  sword — The  “Halifax 
Gibbet” — The  “Scottish  Maiden” — The  guillotine  and  its 
origin — Extravagant  statement  of  Dr.  Guillotin — Louis  XVI. 
makes  a  suggestion — Description  of  the  guillotine — Electrocu¬ 
tion — Office  of  public  executioner — Crimes  punished  with  death. 


/ 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

OPP.  PAGE 

Portrait  of  the  Author  . . Frontispiece 

Strange  Murder  in  a  Cafe  ....  0  ....  32 

Execution  of  Lacenaire . 80 

Dr.  Webster  Confronted  with  the  Remains  of  Dr.  Parkman  .  112 

The  Dearing  Massacre;  Probst  at  Work . 128 

Discovery  of  Daniel  Clarke’s  Bones  in  St.  Robert’s  Cave  .  .  160 

Jeffreys  Inspecting  His  Present . 192 

Judith  and  Her  Maid  Departing  with  the  Head  of  Holofernes.  208 
Assassins  Dying  at  the  Command  of  Their  Chief  .  .  .  256 
Duel  Between  Alexander  Hamilton  and  Aaron  Burr  .  .  .  320 

Dr.  Cronin  Entering  the  Carlson  Cottage  ....  363 

H.  H.  Holmes  Asphyxiating  the  Pitezel  Girls  ....  416 
Discovering  the  Remains  of  Minnie  Williams  ....  464 

Pearl  Bryan  and  Her  Murderers . 480 

Martin  Thorn  and  Mrs.  Nack  on  the  Ferryboat  .  .  .  496 

Adolph  Luetgert  Instructing  “Smokehouse  Frank”  How  to  Crush 
the  Potash . 528 


. 


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MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


^r> 


CHAPTER  I 
INTRODUCTION 

There  are  as  many  theories  explanatory  of  the  introduction 
of  sin  into  the  world  as  there  are  different  systems  of  religion 
and  philosophy.  Most  of  the  great  religious  faiths,  like  Chris¬ 
tianity,  Buddhism  and  Mohammedanism,  account  for  the 
presence  of  sin,  and  consequent  death,  by  insisting  that  man 
was  created  perfect  and  sinless  and  subsequently  fell  from  his 
high  estate  through  the  influence  of  temptation.  On  the  other 
hand,  many  modern  schools  of  philosophy  profess  to  demon¬ 
strate  that  our  first  parents  were  savages,  and  that  mankind 
began  life  by  advancing,  instead  of  retrograding. 

A  discussion  of  this  most  ancient  of  all  questions  would 
prove  alike  futile  and  unprofitable.  Whichever  theory  is 
adopted,  one  fact  is  beyond  dispute :  the  earliest  extant  his¬ 
torical  writings,  outside  the  “sacred  books”  of  different 
nations,  show  mankind  as  existing  in  a  very  low  state  of 
civilization,  and  demonstrate  that,  if  “Athens  was  but  the 
ruins  of  an  Eden  and  Aristotle  but  the  rubbish  of  an  Adam,” 
a  mighty  retrocession  of  the  race  had  early  been  brought 
about.  In  the  fullest  sense  of  the  term,  man  cannot  do  right 
unless  it  is  possible  for  him  to  do  wrong.  Virtue  and  vice  are 
complementary  to  each  other,  and  combine  to  make  up  the 
moral  portion  of  the  being  we  call  man,  as  he  at  present 
exists.  The  expansion  of  the  former  and  the  elimination  of 

x 


2 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


the  latter  is  the  greatest  problem  of  life,  and  its  final  solution, 
perhaps  ages  hence,  will  elevate  humanity  to  that  ideal  posi¬ 
tion  which  must  be  the  ultimate  climax  of  the  Divine  plan  of 
creation. 

In  the  meantime,  the  heart  of  humanity  may  be  likened  to 
an  arena,  infinitely  broader  than  the  one  in  the  Coliseum  at 
Rome,  where  men  and  beasts  fought  for  supremacy,  in  which 
the  tendency  for  good — man’s  true  spirit — contends  with  the 
inclination  for  evil — his  perverted  nature.  While  this  struggle 
is  confined  to  individual  breasts,  its  effects  are  world-wide. 
The  triumph  of  virtue  in  the  heart  of  Marcus  Aurelius  gave  an 
humane  and  kindly  ruler  to  mankind,  while  the  supremacy  of 
vice  in  that  of  Caligula,  plunged  the  world  into  misery  and 
made  Rome  a  vast  saturnalia  of  crime.  The  same  “irrepres¬ 
sible  conflict”  that  produced  Alexanders,  Borgiasand  Jeffreys, 
gave  to  humanity  its  Solons,  Howards  and  Lincolns. 

The  history  of  this  inward  war  is  the  history  of  mankind. 
We  may  not  look  into  the  hearts  of  our  fellows  and  note  how 
the  battle  goes ;  how  the  stealing  of  a  penny  leads  one  man  on 
to  the  gallows,  while  the  repression  of  an  evil  thought  by 
another  starts  in  motion  a  line  of  action  that  induces  him  to 
devote  his  life  to  virtue  and  self-sacrifice,  and  merit  the  com¬ 
mendation  of  men  and  the  approval  of  God,  but  if  we  intel¬ 
ligently  study  their  acts  we  can,  none  the  less  certainly,  know 
which  force  is  in  the  ascendency. 

It  is  because  of  this  strife,  which  continues  with  greater  or 
less  activity  until  the  grave  closes  over  us — unless,  indeed, 
one  of  the  combatants  retires  from  the  battle-field,  leaving 
either  a  saint  or  a  demon  behind  him — that  accounts,  whether 
historical  or  fictitious,  of  great  crimes  and  criminals,  usually 
possess  a  peculiar  fascination.  We  are  all  subjected  to 
temptation,  and,  whether  we  yield  or  resist,  are  conscious  of  an 
inward  conflict.  Most  good  men  can  recall  crises  in  their 
lives,  where  the  turning  aside  from  an  alluring  sin  has  saved 
them  from  a  probable  career  of  evil,  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  most  desperate  criminals  can  remember  yielding  to  some 
one  temptation  that  started  them  upon  a  course  of  crime.  It  is 
this  universal  personal  knowledge  of  ourselves  that  renders 


INTRODUCTION 


3 


attractive  to  many  of  ns  narratives  of  criminal  doings,  even  of 
the  most  atrocious  nature,  like  murder.  By  this  it  is  not 
meant  that  a  large  proportion  of  us  have  been  seriously 
tempted  to  take  the  life  of  a  fellow  creature ;  none  the  less, 
however,  we  can  appreciate  the  struggle  that  engages  the* 
breast  of  a  murderer.  The  man  of  forty  who,  from  jealousy, 
cupidity,  revenge  or  any  other  motive,  kills  another,  would 
have  recoiled  in  horror  from  a  like  suggestion  if  it  had  been 
made  to  him  at  twenty,  while  at  ten  he  only  decided  to  dis¬ 
obey  his  mother  after  the  severest  struggle  of  his  life.  In 
other  words,  men  fall  into  criminal  lines  b}^  gradations,  which 
are  swift  or  slow,  according  to  the  strength  or  weakness  of 
their  moral  natures. 

In  this  connection  the  broad  and  many-sided  question  of 
heredity  presents  itself.  That  some  are  born  with  a  predispo¬ 
sition  to  virtue  while  others  possess  an  inherent  tendency 
towards  evil,  is  too  well  established  and  too  generally  recog¬ 
nized  to  admit  of  doubt  or  warrant  discussion.  This  inherited 
tendency  towards  good  and  evil  has  been  noticed  from  the 
earliest  times.  The  prayer  of  an  ancient  Arabian  thus 
quaintly,  yet  forcibly,  expresses  it:  “Oh!  God,  be  kind  to  the 
wicked!  Thou  hast  been  sufficiently  kind  to  the  good  in 
making  them  good.”  The  beginnings  of  the  human  race 
were  made  under  conditions  of  perfect  equality,  and,  but  for 
the  introduction  of  sin  into  the  world,  these  would  doubtless 
have  continued,  and  all  the  descendants  of  Adam  been  equal 
in  physical  make-up,  intellectual  strength  and  moral  rectitude. 
Why  some  are  born  with  an  inclination  to  live  in  accordance 
with  the  laws  of  God,  while  others,  from  their  cradles,  mani¬ 
fest  decided  predilections  for  wrong-doing  and  crime,  it  is  not 
given  us  to  know ;  yet  such  is  the  undoubted  psychological  fact. 

After  all,  this  distinction  is  only  relative;  many  men  have 
successfully  fought  an  inherited  tendency  to  evil,  lived  vir¬ 
tuous  lives  and  died  triumphant  deaths;  while  no  end  of 
people,  notably  well  endowed,  have  entered  upon  evil  courses 
and  gone  down  to  destruction.  It  is  no  part  of  the  author’s  plan 
to  trace  the  antecedents  of  criminals  and  attempt  to  describe 
their  degree  of  moral  turpitude.  But,  while  men  must  be 


4 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


taken  as  we  find  them,  not  as  we  would  have  them,  our  judg¬ 
ments  as  to  the  culpability  of  criminals  must  always  be  tem¬ 
pered  with  charity,  and  their  antecedents  and  moral  make-up 
be  taken  into  account. 

The  disposition  on  the  part  of  humanity  to  find  pleasure  in 
annals  and  stories  of  crime  has  long  been  observed  and  taken 
advantage  of  by  publishers  and  authors,  who  have  literally 
flooded  the  world,  more  especially  this  country,  with  works  of 
fiction  in  which  the  basest  crimes  are  depicted  and  the 
depravity  of  the  human  heart  laid  bare,  too  frequently  in  a 
manner  that  casts  a  glamour  over  the  most  heinous  offenses 
against  society  and  the  law.  In  this  class  of  fiction  the  sym¬ 
pathy  of  the  reader,  particularly  the  young  reader,  is  often 
with  the  criminal,  whose  misfortunes  and  trials  excite  feelings 
of  fellowship  and  pity,  and  whose  escapes  and  triumphs  cause 
youthful  hearts  to  glow  with  approval  and  pleasure.  Such 
books  have  worked  incalculable  harm  in  thousands  of  Ameri¬ 
can  homes.  Not  only  do  they  degrade  and  vitiate  the  literary 
taste  of  youthful  readers,  but  they  raise  false  notions  of 
morality,  and  prove  the  ruin  of  large  numbers  of  the  young 
of  both  sexes. 

But,  under  the  skilful  hand  of  an  author  of  ability  and 
learning,  who  is  actuated  by  lofty  motives,  vice  can  be  so 
portrayed  as  to  become  hateful,  and  give,  by  contrast,  to 
truth,  and  virtue,  and  manhood,  a  brighter  hue,  a  more 
exalted  meaning.  No  person,  boy  or  girl,  man  or  woman, 
was  probably  ever  morally  injured  by  reading  “Caleb  Wil¬ 
liams,  ”  “  W averley,  ’  ’  “  N icholas  N ickleby,  ’  ’  or  “  Paul  Clifford.  ’  ’ 
The  last  named  is  a  story  of  highwaymen.  Contrast  it  with 
“Sixteen-string  Jack,”  and  “The  James  Boys,’’  and  the  dis¬ 
tinction  will  become  apparent.  It  is  vice  as  portrayed  in  the 
first-mentioned  class  of  books  that  Pope  had  in  mind  when  he 

wrote  :  <<  Vice  is  a  monster  of  so  frightful  mien 

That  to  be  hated  needs  but  to  be  seen ; 

Yet  seen  too  oft,  familiar  with  her  face, 

We  first  endure,  then  pity,  then  embrace.” 

The  author  has  set  himself  the  task  of  writing  what  might, 
not  inappropriately  be  entitled;  “A  History  of  Crime,”  In 


INTRODUCTION 


5 


so  doing-,  he  modestly  hopes  to  be  able  to  present  a  series  of 
books  that,  while  attractive  and  instructive,  may  prove  of 
some  practical  value  to  those  interested  in  the  suppression  of 
crime  and  the  reformation  of  criminals.  His  aim  is  even 
higher  than  this ;  he  hopes  to  aid  in  preventing  the  growth 
and  development  of  criminals,  by  demonstrating  that  one 
false  step  leads  to  another,  and  that  wrong-doing  receives 
certain  and  adequate  punishment,  if  not  at  the  hand  of  the 
law,  in  the  formation  of  an  evil  character,  the  possessor  of 
which  cannot  hope  to  enjoy  anything  of  true  happiness. 

In  the  long  category  of  crime,  murder,  by  almost  universal 
consent,  is  given  the  foremost  place.  To  deprive  a  reasonable 
creature,  made  in  the  image  of  God,  of  his  life,  is  the  perfec¬ 
tion,  the  personification,  of  cruelty — “All  that  a  man  hath  will 
he  give  for  his  life.”  The  perpetrator  of  a  deliberate  murder 
has  reached  the  lowest  abyss  to  which  poor  human  nature  is 
capable  of  falling;  he  may  multiply  his  crimes,  but  can  hardly 
become  more  depraved. 

The  subject  of  the  present  volume  is  homicide,  in  all  its 
shades  of  atrocity,  from  suicide  to  premeditated  murder.  In 
this  offense  are  generally  present  the  motives,  passions  and 
methods  that  characterize  other  and  lesser  crimes,  and  a 
perusal  of  its  history  will  render  clearer  and  more  easily 
understood  the  volumes  that  are  to  follow. 

In  writing  this  book  the  author  becomes  the  chronicler  of 
crime.  He  hopes  to  accomplish  his  task  fairly,  conscientiously, 
and  with  such  detail  and  variety  of  illustration  as,  without 
being  redundant  and  tiresome,  will  convey  a  comprehensive 
idea  of  the  history  of  homicide,  from  the  jealous  and  revenge¬ 
ful  act  of  Cain,  down  to  prominent  cases  within  the  present 
memory  of  the  reader.  In  preparing  this  work  he  has  spared 
neither  pains  nor  expense,  and  has  made  diligent  research  for 
authentic  cases  illustrative  of  the  various  grades  of  homicide, 
the  different  modes  of  accomplishing  it,  and  the  manifold  pas¬ 
sions  and  motives  that  lead  to  its  commission. 

Within  the  scope  of  this  work  fall  many  cases  attended 
with  extenuating  circumstances,  and  in  which,  touching  the 
degree  of  the  perpetrator’s  culpability,  there  may  well  be 


6 


MURDER  -IN  ALL  AGES 


differences  of  opinion.  In  these,  as  in  other  illustrations,  the 
author  offers  nothing  in  justification  or  excuse.  His  aim  is  to 
present  the  facts  and  allow  the  reader  to  draw  his  own  con¬ 
clusions.  He  recognizes  no  criminal  heroes,  and  the  gallantry 
and  generosity  of  cut-throats  are  not  put  forward  and  balanced 
against  their  crimes.  “A  man  must  be  just  before  he  is 
generous,”  declared  one  of  England’s  greatest  jurists,  and 
this  truism  is  sufficient  to  sweep  aside  all  apologies  offered  by 
sentimentalists  for  criminals  who,  like  Robin  Hood  and  Claude 
Duval,  seemed  to  possess  and  exercise  certain  chivalrous  and 
amiable  traits  of  character. 

It  is  no  part  of  the  design  of  this  work  to  elaborate  the  hor¬ 
rible  or  encourage  any  morbid  tastes  in  that  direction.  Dis¬ 
gusting  details  are  omitted  or  treated  in  a  manner  not 
calculated  to  shock  the  sensibilities  of  the  reader.  At  the  same 
time,  criminal  pictures  are  not  deprived  of  their  just  shades 
and  coloring,  but  stand  out  in  bold  relief,  contrasting  strongly 
with  the  praiseworthy  acts  of  honorable  and  virtuous  men. 
Without  aping  the  style  of  the  novelist,  it  has  been  the  author’s 
aim  to  treat  the  subject  in  a  manner  that  will  render  the  work 
pleasing  and  entertaining,  as  well  as  instructive  and  elevating. 

In  the  ensuing  pages  will  be  found  some  illustrations  of 
crime  and  the  operation  of  the  homicidal  impulse  that  have 
been  drawn  from  the  works  of  fiction.  At  the  first  blush  these 
might  seem  out  of  place  in  a  volume  dealing  with  homicide. 
It  must  be  remembered,  however,  that  the  present  work  com¬ 
prehends  something  more  than  that;  it  aims  to  show  the 
motives  and  temptations  that  drive  men  of  different  tempera¬ 
ments  and  various  environments  into  courses  of  crime,  and 
for  such  purposes  a  fictitious  narrative,  written  by  a  close  and 
conscientious  investigator  of  human  nature  and  human  action, 
like  De  Quincey,  for  instance,  possesses  peculiar  value. 
“Fiction,”  declared  Aristotle,  the  most  scientific  and  accurate 
of  all  the  philosophers  of  ancient  Greece,  “contains  more  real 
truth  than  history.”  He  goes  on  to  explain  this  seeming  para¬ 
dox  by  saying  that  many  so-called  historical  facts  are  either 
entire  fabrications  or  have  been  so  distorted  in  the  process  of 
transmission,  so  often  warped  and  twisted  to  establish  theories, 


i 


INTRODUCTION 


7 


justify  parties  and  friends,  or  condemn  enemies,  as  to  be  alto¬ 
gether  unreliable.  His  definition  of  a  novel,  or  tale,  shows 
clearly  and  succinctly  why,  in  his  estimation,  fiction,  if  the 
work  of  a  master  mind,  contains  much  of  real  truth.  “A 
novel,”  he  wrote,  “is  that  department  of  fiction  wherein  the 
characters  are  represented  asacting  and  the  events  as  ensuing 
in  the  same  manner  as  might  reasonably  be  expected  on  the 
supposition  that  the  actors  had  had  a  real  existence.”  He 

further  explains  that  history  deals  with  certain  individual 

/ 

facts  only,  as  an  account  of  a  battle,  while  true  fiction  brings 
together  a  large  number  of  human  actions  and  experiences, 
collated  by  the  author  from  numerous  sources,  and  thus  pre¬ 
sents  a  more  composite,  and  hence  broader,  and  more  truthful 
and  instructive  picture,  than  a  page  from  history. 

The  long  experience  of  the  author  with  crime  and  criminals 
and  his  researches  among  the  criminal  annals  of  the  past, 
lead  him  to  believe  that,  in  the  civilized  society  of  our  day, 
better  impulses  predominate  than  in  the  centuries  gone  by, 
and  he  is  convinced  that  the  present  volume  will  establish  this 
position.  Crimes  that  went  almost  unrebuked  a  thousand 
years  ago,  are  of  comparatively  rare  occurrence  now,  and 
excite  a  thrill  of  universal  horror  and  indignation.  It  is  no 
doubt  true  that  there  are  more  arrests  and  convictions  to-day, 
population  being  taken  into  account,  than  there  were  a  century 
ago,  but,  so  far  from  proving  that  crime  is  increasing,  it  rather 
argues  the  reverse.  It  shows  the  existence  now  of  better 
laws  and  a  higher  moral  standard  among  the  mass  of  the 
people,  leading  to  more  determined  and  better  directed  efforts 
for  the  suppression  of  crime.  A  larger  number  of  offenses 
are  now  punished  as  crimes  than  a  century  ago.  It  is  true 
that  the  punishment  meted  out  is  much  less  severe — we  no 
longer  hang  a  man  for  stealing  five  shillings,  but  strive  to 
reform  and  return  him  to  his  proper  position  in  society — but, 
in  the  aggregate,  the  number  of  punishable  offenses  has  been 
considerably  increased.  As  an  instance  of  this,  reference 
may  be  made  to  drunkenness  and  the  restrictions  thrown 
around  the  liquor  traffic.  A  large  proportion  of  the  arrests 
made  to-day  are  directly  chargeable  to  this  innovation. 


8 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


There  is  another  reason  why  the  great  relative  prevalence 
of  crime  to-day,  as  contrasted  with  bygone  years,  is  apparent 
rather  than  real.  Railroads  and  telegraph  lines  have  annihi¬ 
lated  distance,  so  far  as  the  transmission  of  news  is  con¬ 
cerned,  while  the  multiplication  of  newspapers  renders  it 
possible  for  ns  to  read  every  morning  of  all  the  unusual  or 
atrocious  crimes  that  were  perpetrated  and  discovered  on  the 
preceding  day,  throughout  the  civilized  world. 

An  additional  explanation  of  this  seeming  contradiction  may 
be  found  in  better  police  regulations  and  the  improved  detect¬ 
ive  methods,  which  prevail  at  present.  It  is  not  meant  that 
men  are  now  better  endowed  than  were  their  grandfathers, 
but  rather  that  they  possess  greater  advantages  than  did  their 
ancestors.  The  improvements  mentioned  in  the  last  para¬ 
graph  have  given  an  enormous  advantage  to  those  whose  lives 
and  abilities  are  devoted  to  the  detection  of  crime  and  the 
arrest  and  conviction  of  criminals.  In  addition  to  this,  the 
occupation  of  the  detective  has  been  reduced  to  something  of  a 
scientific  character.  Subject  to  many  variations,  it  is  true, 
there  is  still  a  decided  similarity  in  most  crimes  naturally 
falling  into  the  same  class.  The  collection,  classification  and 
comparison  of  a  multitude  of  authentic  cases  gives  the  trained 
detective  of  to-day  a  decided  advantage  over  his  predecessor, 
even  of  a  generation  ago.  Thanks  to  this,  the  number  of 
undiscovered  crimes  is  constantly  diminishing,  while  vastly 
more  criminals  are  arrested  and  brought  to  justice,  thus  adding 
to  the  apparent  prevalence  of  crime.  The  modern  detective 
has  one  other  decided  advantage  over  his  predecessor  of  a 
hundred  years  ago:  popular  sentiment  more  strongly  con¬ 
demns  crime  at  the  present  day  than  it  did  then.  This  is  due 
in  part  to  an  awakened  public  conscience,  but  more  largely  to 
the  extravagant  penalties  that  were  then  provided  for  viola¬ 
tors  of  the  law.  In  England,  not  much  more  than  a  century 
ago,  one  hundred  and  sixty  different  offenses  were  punishable 
with  death.  Such  extreme  measures  could  not  fail  to  prove 
animosity  to  the  law,  and  induce  the  great  majority  of  the 
people  to  shield  from  death  one  who  had  committed  only  a 
trivial  offense.  This  lack  of  cooperation  with  the  authorities, 


INTRODUCTION 


9 


on  the  part  of  the  class  now  denominated  “good  citizens,” 
was  largely  responsible  for  the  comparatively  few  arrests  and 
convictions  at  the  time  referred  to. 

Another  explanation  of  the  apparent  increase  of  crime,  as 
shown  in  more  frequent  convictions,  appears  in  the  circum¬ 
stance  that  crimes  are  less  severely  punished  now  than  formerly. 
Terms  of  imprisonment  have  been  materially  shortened  dur¬ 
ing  the  past  century,  months,  in  many  instances,  taking  the 
place  of  years.  As  the  law-breaking  classes  largely  consist  of 
habitual  criminals,  fully  half  of  whose  days  are  spent  in 
prison,  it  follows  that  shorter  terms  mean  more  arrests  and 
convictions,  thus,  apparently,  increasing  the  number  of  crim¬ 
inals.  When  it  is  remembered  that  many  old  offenders  in  our 
large  cities  have  been  arrested  and  sent  to  prison  scores  and 
sometimes  hundreds  of  times,  the  effect  of  this  cause  upon 
criminal  statistics  becomes  evident. 

The  author  believes  that  a  brighter  era  has  dawned  upon 
mankind;  he  sees  it  in  more  equal  and  humane  laws,  in  a 
wider  and  more  general  dissemination  of  knowledge,  in  the 
awakened  conscience  of  thousands  of  men  and  women  who  are 
forgetting  something  of  self  that  they  may  reclaim  and  elevate 
their  fellows.  He  hopes  for  more  marked  advancement  in 
the  immediate  future  than  has  been  manifest  in  the  recent 
past,  and  aspires  to  become  an  humble  factor  in  the  present 
world-wide  movement  in  that  direction. 

As  suggested  in  the  outset;  good,  in  an  active,  positive 
sense,  can  only  exist  as  a  complement  of  possible  evil.  When 
better  impulses  and,  consequently,  better  actions,  have 
resulted  from  the  conflict  of  sin  and  virtue  in  the  universal 
human  breast,  humanity  will  learn  that  evil  was  not  a  mistake 
or  a  defeat  of  the  plans  of  the  Creator,  but  rather  a  manifesta¬ 
tion  of  His  highest  wisdom.  All  that  live  and  err  have  a  place 
in  the  great  Universal  Plan. 

“  So  man,  who  here  seems  principal  alone, 

Perhaps  acts  second  to  some  sphere  unknown, 

Touches  some  wheel,  or  verges  to  some  goal; 

’Tis  but  a  part  we  see,  and  not  the  whole.” 


CHAPTER  II 


THE  HOMICIDAL  IMPULSE 

We  are  so  familiar  with  the  crime  of  murder,  from  per¬ 
sonal  observations,  gruesome  stories  and  detailed  accounts, 
with  which  the  daily  press  literally  teems,  that  we  have  come 
to  regard  it  almost  as  a  matter  of  course;  a  detestable  and 
unnatural  thing,  surely,  but  something  to  be  constantly 
expected.  And  yet,  if  we  lay  aside  that  indifference,  born,  not 
of  sympathy,  but  rather  of  familiarity,  which  dulls  all  emo¬ 
tions,  and  calmly  consider  an  isolated  case  of  homicide,  its 
perpetration  becomes  a  veritable  mystery  that  we  are  unable 
to  solve.  That  one  reasonable  creature,  finding  pleasure  in 
the  society  of  his  fellows  and,  in  a  certain  sense  at  least,  loving 
his  neighbor,  should  take  the  life  of  another,  appears  so 
unreasonable  that,  were  we  not  supplied  with  numerous  well 
authenticated  instances,  we  might,  like  the  Asiatic  king, 
when  he  first  heard  of  the  existence  of  ice,  refuse  to  believe  it 
possible.  It  is  only  when  studied  in  this  manner  that  the 
awful  enormity  of  this  crime,  which,  should  it  come  to  be 
universally  practiced,  would  speedily  exterminate  the  human 
race,  dawns  upon  our  minds. 

The  careful  study  of  almost  any  case  of  murder,  and  an 
analysis  of  the  motives,  passions  and  perversions  that  led  to 
its  commission,  will  broaden  our  conception  of  the  character  of 
human  nature.  Many  men  have  given  up  their  lives  that 
others  might  live.  Although  the  greatest  and  noblest  of  all 
human  sacrifices,  that  of  the  Redeemer  is  far  from  being  the 
only  one  that  man  has  unselfishly  offered  to  mankind. 
Whether  we  contemplate  Arnold  Winkelried,  as,  fired  with 
patriotism,  he  rushed  upon  the  spears  of  the  advancing  Aus¬ 
trian  phalanx  and  died,  that  his  brothers  might  live  and 

IO 


THE  HOMICIDAL  IMPULSE 


1 1 

Switzerland  be  free,  or  listen  to  the  rude,  but  none  the  less 
godlike  dying  words  of  Jim  Bludsoe  from  the  pilot-house  of 
the  burning  Prairie  Belle,  “I’ll  hold  her  nozzle  agin  the  bank 
till  the  last  galoot’s  ashore,”  our  hearts  swell  and  we  realize, 
with  Lord  Bacon,  that  if  man  is  connected  with  the  beasts 
of  the  field  by  his  body,  he  is  surely  joined  to  God  by  his 
spirit. 

Contrast  a  case  like  one  of  these  with  a  murder  committed 
from  motives  of  cupidity,  and  we  have  before  us  the  heights 
and  depths  of  human  nature  and  begin  to  realize  something  of 
the  immense  expanse  that  separates  a  truly  humane  man  from 
one  who  is  vicious  and  debased;  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  widely 
diverging  paths  of  virtue  and  of  vice.  Yielding  to  the  highest 
instincts  and  impulses  with  which  the  human  race  is  endowed, 
one  gives  up  his  dearest  possession,  existence,  that  his  fellow 
creatures  may  live  and  be  happy,  while  the  other  deprives  him 
of  his  life  for  a  handful  of  silver  with  which  to  carry  on  a 
drunken,  licentious  debauch. 

This  contrast  renders  more  than  ever  inexplicable  the  exist¬ 
ence  of  a  deliberate  murderer.  But,  if  it  furnishes  an  object- 
lesson  of  the  degradation  to  which,  man  often  descends,  it 
shows  the  lofty  elevations  that  he  sometimes  attains,  and 
suggests  the  only  rational  method  for  the  complete  suppres¬ 
sion  of  crime,  viz.,  the  moral  elevation  of  the  race,  which  can 
only  be  attained  through  the  aid  of  better  physical  and  conse¬ 
quently  higher  mental  conditions. 

By  this  the  author  does  not  mean  that  crime  is  not  to  be 
ferreted  out  and  its  perpetrators  punished — this  course  is  as  old 
as  the  first  rude,  patriarchal  government  and  will  be  completely 
abandoned  only  upon  the  materialization  of  the  Millennium 
— but,  that  moral  education  will  decrease  wrong-doing  more 
rapidly  than  dungeons,  blocks  and  scaffolds,  because  it 
decreases  the  number  of  possible  subjects  upon  which  that 
highly  contagious  disease,  crime,  may  feed  and  continue  to 
grow. 

Many  writers  have  noted  as  curious  the  circumstance  that 
the  crime  most  severely  punished  by  the  criminal  codes  of  all 
nations  and  ages,  is  the  earliest  one  of  which  we  have  any 


12 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


authentic  historical  evidence,  and  that  the  first  accusation  or 
indictment,  not  counting  the  disobedience  of  our  first  parents, 
was  one  on  the  awful  charge  of  murder — “The  voice  of  thy 
brother’s  blood  crieth  unto  me  from  the  ground.” 

These  writers  forget  that  in  the  opening  chapters  of 
Genesis  are  compressed  facts  and  processes,  which,  if  given 
in  anything  like  detail,  would  fill  volumes,  yes,  libraries. 
Accepting  as  true  the  orthodox  account  of  the  beginnings  of 
human  existence  in  this  world,  it  is  not  difficult  to  find  a 
rational  explanation  of  the  enormous  crime  of  Cain.  Although 
disposed  of  in  a  few  lines,  it  must  be  remembered  that  long 
years  elapsed  between  the  posting  of  cherubim  and  a  flaming 
sword  to  the  eastward  of  the  garden  of  Eden,  and  the  day 
when  “Cain  rose  up  against  Abel,  his  brother,  and  slew 
him.  ” 

In  these  years,  Cain,  the  first-born  of  Adam,  and  of  man¬ 
kind,  had  cultivated  a  character  and  an  individuality  of  his 
own.  Of  these  we  know  nothing,  except  by  necessary  infer¬ 
ence,  but  this  renders  clear  the  circumstance  that  he  had 
developed  marked  tendencies  to  evil.  This  is  apparent  from 
the  fact  that  his  offering  failed  to  find  favor  with  the  Lord, 
who,  in  the  meantime,  “had  respect  unto  Abel,  and  to  his 
offering.”  It  further  appears  that  “Cain  was  very  wroth,  and 
his  countenance  fell,”  when  rebuked  by  the  Almighty.  But 
his  evil  heart  is  most  clearly  shown  by  the  words  of  the  Lord : 
“If  thou  doest  well,  shalt  thou  not  be  accepted?  and  if  thou 
doest  not  well,  sin  lieth  at  the  door.” 

The  rage  aroused  in  the  heart  of  Cain,  impotent  so  far  as 
concerned  his  Maker,  seems  to  have  been  transferred  to  his 
brother.  Combined  with  the  jealousy  that  had  already  found 
a  lodgment  there,  it  started  into  being  what  may  well  be 
designated  the  first  instance  of  the  homicidal  impulse.  It 
would  appear  that  this  was  intensified  by  a  conversation  which 
he  soon  after  had  with  his  brother.  It  must  be  remembered 
that  Abel  was  born  in  sin  and  possessed,  consequently,  of 
pride  and  vanity.  What  more  natural  than  that  he  should 
exult  over  the  acceptance  of  his  own  offering  and  taunt  his 
companion  for  his  failure? 


THE  HOMICIDAL  IMPULSE 


13 


Something  of  this  view  is  taken  by  Milton,  who  thus  briefly, 
yet  graphically,  describes  the  first  fratricide : 

44  His  offering  soon  propitious  fire  from  Heaven 
Consumed  with  nimble  glance  and  grateful  steam, 

The  other’s  not,  for  his  was  not  sincere; 

Whereat  he  inly, raged;  and,  as  they  talked, 

Smote  him  in  the  midriff  with  a  stone 
That  beat  out  life ;  he  fell,  and,  deadly  pale 
Groaned  out  his  soul  with  gushing  blood  effused.” 

The  first  murderer  has  not  wanted  defenders,  and  many 
arguments  have  been  written  to  justify,  or  at  least  excuse,  his 
diabolical  act.  Of  these,  perhaps  Lord  Byron  heads  the  list. 
In  his  impassioned  mystery,  entitled  “Cain,”  he  ascribes  the 
rage  of  the  fratricide  to  a  deep-seated  feeling  that  he  had 
suffered  injustice  at  the  hands  of  the  Almighty,  and  puts  into 
his  mouth  the  following  impious  words: 

“His! 

His  pleasure !  What  was  his  high  pleasure  in 
The  fumes  of  scorching  flesh  and  smoking  blood, 

To  the  pain  of  the  bleating  mothers,  which 
Still  yearn  for  their  dead  offspring?  or  the  pangs 
Of  the  sad  ignorant  victims  underneath 
Thy  pious  knife?  Give  way !  this  bloody  record 
Shall  not  stand  in  the  sun,  to  shame  creation!” 

Byron  makes  Cain  attempt  the  destruction  of  the  altar  and 
the  sacrifice  that  had  found  acceptance.  Abel  opposes  him, 
and  Cain  seizes  a  brand  from  the  embers  and  kills  his  brother 
by  striking  him  on  the  temples. 

Whatever  view  we  take  of  the  first  homicide,  it  is  apparent 
that  in  the  long  ages  that  have  elapsed  since  its  commission, 
the  brutal  passions  of  man  have  remained  without  very  sub¬ 
stantial  changes.  Such  alterations  as  can  be  noted  are  surely 
in  the  line  of  advancement.  In  these  days  of  ours,  brother 
sometimes  takes  the  life  of  brother,  it  is  true,  but  a  modern 
instance  of  a  fratricide  committed  before  an  altar  consecrated 
to  the  worship  of  God,  and  by  one  who  had  come  there  to 
engage  in  a  most  exalted  religious  ceremony,  can  hardly  be 
cited.  So  far,  it  goes  to  establish  the  position  of  the  author, 


14 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


that  the  brutish  passions  and  instincts  of  mankind  are,  and 
long  have  been,  undergoing  modifications;  while,  thanks  to  a 
higher  civilization,  the  establishment  of  more  lofty  ideals  and 
the  spread  of  true  religion,  better  impulses  are  beginning  to 
permeate  and  control  society. 

The  case  of  Cain  suggests  the  origin  and  nature  of  the 
homicidal  impulse,  a  term  somewhat  vague  in  its  meaning, 
and  hence  difficult  to  accurately  define.  Whether  there  is,  in 
the  normal  human  heart,  a  tendency  or  disposition  to  take  the 
life  of  fellow  creatures,  as  contra-distinguished  from  a  tend¬ 
ency  to  commit  crime  in  general,  has  been  doubted  by 
many.  It  is  difficult,  however,  to  account  for  many  atrocious 
homicides  on  any  other  hypothesis.  The  absence  of  all 
apparent  motive  has  caused  many  murder  mysteries  to  go 
unsolved.  Frequently,  usually,  in  fact,  the  first  real  clue  to 
the  perpetration  of  a  mysterious  homicide  is  furnished  by  the 
discovery  of  a  tangible  motive.  It  is  this  matter  that  instantly 
engages  the  attention  of  the  trained  detective,  into  whose 
hands  a  murder  case  is  placed.  The  first  inquiries  suggested 
to  his  mind  are:  Who  would  naturally  profit  by  his  death? 
Had  the  deceased  enemies?  Had  he  so-called  friends  who 
may  have  become  estranged  through  real  or  fancied  injuries? 
Had  he  a  “love  affair’’  that  would  be  likely  to  call  into  play 
the  passions  of  a  jealous  rival?  Is  it  not  possible  that  he  had 
done  some  great  wrong  and  refused  to  make  reparation?  Was 
he  of  a  quarrelsome  disposition,  and  if  so,  may  not  his  death 
have  resulted  from  a  sudden  and  unforeseen  affray?  Was  he 
slain  for  purposes  of  robbery?  These,  and  other  like  ques¬ 
tions,  are  asked  and  their  answers  obtained  as  quickly  and 
reliably  as  possible.  Failing  to  discover  any  reasonable 
motive  leaves  the  detective  in  a  quandary,  from  which,  usually, 
nothing  short  of  a  stroke  of  good  fortune  delivers  him. 

The  absence  of  a  motive  for  the  commission  of  a  great 
crime  is  frequently  employed  to  decided  advantage  by  the 
defense,  when  the  accused  is  brought  to  trial.  Doubtless  it 
often  exists  in  eases  where  the  prosecution  is  unable  to  show 
it.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  however,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that 
many  murders  are  committed  without  any  definite  reason 


i5 


THE  HOMICIDAL  IMPULSE 

existing  in  the  mind  of  the  perpetrator,  unless  it  be  an  inher¬ 
ent  disposition,  or  inclination,  to  take  human  life;  the  homi¬ 
cidal  impulse.  That  actual  manifestations  of  this  impulse  are 
rare  does  not  argue  strongly  against  its  existence.  In  the 
introductory  chapter  the  statement  was  made  that  few  of  us 
have  ever  been  seriously  tempted  to  take  the  life  of  another. 
It  is  nevertheless  true  that  most  of  us  have  experienced  a 
desire,  momentary  perhaps,  but  none  the  less  real,  to  kill. 
We  have  not  regarded  this  as  a  legitimate  temptation, 
because,  thanks  to  our  better  nature  and  the  inherent  horror 
with  which  we  regard  homicide,  the  impulse  has  been  of  short 
duration  and  has  left  little  impression  upon  our  minds.  To 
one  of  cruel  instincts,  weak  conscience  and  a  predilection  to 
crime,  however,  the  outcome  may  be  far  different. 

The  circumstance  that  murder  is  the  first  real  crime 
recorded  by  authentic  history  goes  far  to  establish  the  theory 
of  homicidal  impulse.  To  a  certain  extent  it  is  true  that  the 
pastoral  life  of  the  beginnings  of  mankind  reduced  to  a  mini¬ 
mum  the  motives  and  inducements  for  wrong-doing ;  yet  why 
should  one  of  the  foulest  and  most  unnatural  offenses  which 
sixty  centuries  of  sin  have  nurtured  and  matured,  stand  first  in 
the  order  of  time?  Accept  the  suggestion  that,  as  a  portion 
of  the  dark  heritage  of  sin  that  has  come  down  to  us  from  our 
first  parents,  is  included  a  germ  of  the  same  horrid  impulse 
that  overpowered  Cain  and  made  him  a  vagabond  and  a 
wanderer  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  the  solution  is  com¬ 
paratively  easy.  Cain  knew  nothing  of  homicide,  or,  indeed, 
of  death,  except  that  of  animals,  and  could  have  had  no  just  con¬ 
ception  of  the  enormity  and  awful  consequences  of  his  offense. 
With  little  to  oppose  it,  the  impulse  prevailed,  and  the  deed 
was  done. 

That  this  horrid  impulse  had  thus  early  found  a  lodg¬ 
ment  in  the  heart  of  man,  may  appear  remarkable,  but  our 
wonder  will  disappear  when  we  consider  the  murderous  char¬ 
acter  of  the  tempter  of  mankind,  and  that  the  first  effect  of  his 
beguilements  was  to  introduce  death  into  the  world.  What 
more  reasonable  than  that  the  impulse  to  slay  entered  the 
heart  and  brain  from  which  all  hope  of  earthly  immortality 


i6 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


had  been  banished?  In  falling  from  his  high  estate,  man 
surely  inherited  many  of  the  characteristics  of  the  tempter,  and 
why  not  his  murderous  impulse? 

On  this  point  we  have 'the  highest  possible  authority,  that  of 
our  Divine  Master.  In  the  eighth  chapter  of  the  Gospel 
According  to  St.  John  the  existence  of  the  homicidal  impulse 
appears  to  be  distinctly  stated.  The  Jews  were  seeking  to  kill 
Christ,  and,  in  answer  to  his  sharp  reproaches,  boastfully 
announced  that  they  were  “Abraham’s  children.’’  To  which 
the  Master  most  significantly  replied: 

“Ye  are  of  your  father  the  devil,  and  the  lusts  of  your 
father  ye  will  do.  He  was  a  murderer  from  the  beginning, 
and  abode  not  in  the  truth,  because  there  is  no  truth  in  him.’’ 

There  are  many  possible  interpretations  and  explanations 
of  passages  of  Scripture,  but  to  a  layman  this  statement 
clearly  points  to  an  inheritance  from  the  father  of  falsehood 
and  murder,  of  a  disposition  to  kill.  This  text  is  given  addi¬ 
tional  force  from  the  circumstance  that  the  Jews  were  bent 
upon  the  murder  of  Christ,  and  took  up  stones  to  accomplish 
their  object,  and  that  he  only  escaped  by  rendering  himself 
invisible,  “going  through  the  midst  of  them,  and  so  passed  by.  ’’ 

Children,  with  little  knowledge  and  experience,  more 
nearly  occupy  the  position  of  Cain  than  do  persons  of  mature 
years.  Who  has  not  noticed  the  blind  unreasoning  rage  of  a 
crossed  child,  and  heard  infant  lips  shout  aloud  the  awful 
words,  “I  will  kill  you’’?  There  are  exceptions,  of  course, 
but  most  children  early  manifest  a  decided  disposition  to 
destroy  animal  and  insect  life.  Many  a  fond  mother’s  heart 
has  thrilled  with  dismay  at  discovering  her  beloved  infant 
prodigy  in  the  act  of  pulling  the  wings  and  legs  off  a  fly,  or 
decapitating  a  toad.  If  these  early  manifestations  of  a  desire 
to  slay  are  not  chargeable  to  an  inherent  germ  or  impulse, 
how  are  we  to  account  for  them?  Except  in  rare  instances, 
not  from  observation  or  hearsay,  surely.  What  explanation 
remains  unless  it  be  the  impulse  to  take  life? 

Something  of  the  same  kind  is  observable  in  matured  man¬ 
hood,  although  here  the  exceptions  are  more  numerous.  A 
large  proportion  of  its  find  a  pleasure,  vague  and  indefinable, 


THE  HOMICIDAL  IMPULSE 


i7 


but  none  the  less  actual,  in  the  destruction  of  animals.  It  is 
this  that  imparts  more  than  half  the  zest  to  the  chase.  No 
end  of  animal  life  has  been  wantonly  taken,  not  for  the  pur¬ 
pose  of  procuring  food  and  raiment,  but  for  the  mere  pleasure 
of  killing.  What  is  this  but  a  slight  manifestation  of  that 
which,  unrestrained,  becomes  the  true  homicidal  impulse? 

It  is  recorded  by  Suetonius,  the  great  Roman  historian,  in 
his  “Lives  of  the  Twelve  Caesars,”  that  Tiberius,  the  second 
emperor,  took  undisguised  delight  in  putting  his  fellows  to 
death.  This  he  did  upon  the  slightest  pretext,  and  in  the 
most  cruel  manner.  In  his  infancy  and  youth  his  favorite 
amusement  was  pulling  flies  to  pieces  and  torturing  animals. 
Nurtured  by  an  ambitious,  cruel,  and  murderous  mother,  the 
awful  tendency  to  take  life,  which  in  our  day  education  and 
good  example  usually  eradicate,  or  at  least  subdue,  was  given 
full  sway,  became  the  ruling  passion  of  his  life  and  stamped 
him  as  a  monster  of  iniquity. 

When  Nero,  himself  one  of  the  best  of  all  historical 
instances  of  a  man  subject  to  this  awful  mania,  had  specially 
and  outrageously  wronged  the  people,  how  did  he  placate 
them?  By  presenting  them  with  gifts?  No;  by  inviting 
them  to  the  amphitheatre  to  see  brutish  beasts  and  still  more 
savage  men  engage  in  a  life  and  death  conflict ;  to  see  gladi¬ 
ator  hew  down  brother  gladiator,  and  lions  tear  the  delicate 
limbs  of  Christian  maidens.  A  homicide  himself,  Nero, 
better  than  good  and  virtuous  men,  understood  this  death¬ 
dealing  impulse  of  the  human  heart,  and  the  bloody  scenes  he 
presented  to  the  populace  never  failed  to  make  them  forget  his 
own  oppressive  acts  and  manifest  the  most  intense  satisfaction. 
Other  rulers  have  followed  his  infamous  example,  and  have 
usually  found  that  their  rude  and  almost  conscienceless  sub¬ 
jects  fully  appreciated  the  horrid  entertainment. 

We  all  manifest  a  lively  interest  in  occurrences  in  some 
respects  similar  to  personal  experiences  of  our  own,  and  we 
usually  excuse  or  condemn  them  according  to  the  general  rule 
we  have  adopted  in  dealing  with  like  matters  that  have  arisen 
in  our  own  lives.  The  suggestion  of  the  homicidal  impulse 
appears  to  be  the  only  explanation  broad  enough  to  cover  the 


i8 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


almost  universal  interest  which  mankind  takes  in  stories  of 
murder,  whether  real  or  fictitious.  The  columns  of  a  daily 
newspaper  first  turned  to  by  nine  out  of  ten,  are  those 
wherein  are  chronicled  the  homicides  and  other  revolting 
crimes  of  the  day.  The  most  popular  works  of  fiction  have 
almost  invariably  been  those  where  the  interest  hinges  on  a  dark 
murder  mystery.  Great  novelists,  like  Dickens,  Sue,  Hugo, 
Kingsley,  Ainsworth,  Dumas  and  Doyle,  have  appreciated 
this  demand  on  the  part  of  the  public,  and,  no  doubt,  derived 
a  decided  personal  pleasure  in  writing  to  supply  it.  More 
than  that,  many  of  the  greatest  works  of  art,  both  in  sculp¬ 
ture  and  painting,  deal  with  cases  of  homicide,  often  in  its 
most  revolting  form. 

If  it  is  said  that  this  can  be  accounted  for  on  the  principle 
that  there  is  something  fascinating  about  the  horrible  and 
unnatural,  the  reply  is  that  the  horrible  only  attracts  when 
connected  with  some  form  of  human  depravity,  murder  far 
more  than  any  other.  We  turn  with  a  shudder  and  a  heart¬ 
ache  from  a  hasty  glance  at  a  ten-line  item  telling  how  a 
poor  workman  has  been  caught  in  a  machine  and  horribly 
mangled,  or  another  that  briefly  recounts  the  fearful  sufferings 
of  the  victim  of  a  gasoline  explosion,  and  eagerly  read,  fairly 
revel  sometimes,  in  a  two-column  account  of  a  double  murder 
and  suicide.  The  gentlemen  of  the  press  well  understand  this 
peculiarity  on  the  part  of  their  patrons,  and  an  editor  who 
gave  equal  prominence  and  space  to  harrowing  incidents  that 
he  devoted  to  unnatural  murders,  would  soon  find  himself, 
like  Othello,  one  of  the  most  famous  uxorcides  of  fiction,  with¬ 
out  an  occupation. 

As  the  author  is  not  desirous  of  presenting  an  object- 
lesson  to  illustrate  the  last  sentence,  he  will  suspend  the  work 
of  attempted  philosophizing,  and  pass  on  to  the  task  he  has 
set  himself — the  presentation  of  instances  of  homicide,  from 
the  great  fields  of  fact  and  fiction. 

Among  American  authors,  and  those  of  the  whole  world 
might  be  included,  for  that  matter,  few  have  seemed  to 
delight  in  the  recital  of  stories  of  homicide,  and  a  dissection 
and  discussion  of  the  motives  that  lead  to  it,  to  so  marked  an 


THE  HOMICIDAL  IMPULSE 


19 


extent  as  Edgar  Allan  Poe,  and  few  have  equaled  his  work  in 
that  direction.  Of  a  supersensitive,  morbid  nature,  and  a 
victim  of  intemperance  in  many  of  its  worst  forms,  he  appears 
to  have  had  an  intense  sympathy  with  what  we  have  desig¬ 
nated,  for  lack  of  a  clearer  and  more  comprehensive  term, 
the  “Homicidal  Impulse.”  With  marvelous,  not  to  say 
repulsive,  fidelity  to  the  smallest  and  most  horrible  detail,  he 
seems  fairly  to  gloat  over  murder.  He  studied  it  as  an  art, 
and  his  conclusions,  drawn  as  they  were  from  instances  in  all 
ages  of  the  world,  are  entitled  to  great  consideration.  In  his 
tale  of  “Murello,”  he  gives  an  excellent  instance  of  the 
operation  of  the  homicidal  impulse.  In  this  work  he  deline¬ 
ates  the  desire  to  kill  as  springing  into  spontaneous  existence 
in  a  human  soul,  or  developing  from  the  encysted  germ  we 
have  referred  to  as  very  possibly  existing  in  each  and  every 
breast.  Motive,  except  from  this  cause,  is  absent,  and  not  the 
slightest  provocation  is  offered.  The  husband  of  the  sad 
heroine  of  the  sombre  tale  is  represented  as  being  seized  with 
a  burning  and,  apparently,  uncontrollable  desire  for  her  death. 
In  a  recital  of  his  controlling  emotions,  the  murderer  is  made 
to  say: 

“My  wife’s  manner  oppressed  me  as  a  spell.  I  could  no 
longer  bear  the  touch  of  her  wan  fingers,  nor  the  low  tone  of 
her  musical  language,  nor  the  lustre  of  her  melancholy  eyes. 
She  knew  all  this,  but  did  not  upbraid ;  she  seemed  conscious 
of  my  weakness  or  folly,  and  called  it  fate.  Yet  was  she 
woman,  and  pined  away  daily.  In  time  the  crimson  spot 
settled  steadily  on  the  cheek,  and  the  blue  veins  upon  the 
pale  forehead  became  prominent ;  and  one  instant  my  nature 
melted  into  pity,  but  in  the  next  I  met  the  glance  of  her  mean¬ 
ing  eyes,  and  then  my  soul  sickened  and  became  giddy  with 
the  giddiness  of  one  who  gazes  downward  into  some  dreary 
and  unfathomable  abyss. 

“Shall  I  then  say  that  I  longed  with  an  earnest  and  con¬ 
suming  desire  for  the  moment  for  Murello’s  death?  I  did; 
but  the  fragile  spirit  clung  to  its  tenement  of  clay  for  many 
days — for  many  weeks  and  irksome  months — until  my  tortured 
nerves  obtained  the  mastery  over  my  mind,  and  I  grew  furious 


20 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


with  delay,  and,  with  the  heart  of  a  fiend,  cursed  the  days  and 
the  hours  and  the  bitter  moments,  which  seemed  to  lengthen 
and  lengthen  as  her  gentle  life  declined  like  shadows  in  the 
dyings  of  the  day.  ’  ’ 

In  the  estimation  of  many,  the  utterance  of  such  words  as 
those  quoted  above,  if  taken  as  honestly  expressing  the  real 
feelings  and  sentiments  of  their  user,  is  clearly  indicative  of 
insanity.  It  is  no  part  of  the  author’s  plan  to  enter  into  a  dis¬ 
cussion  of  this  question,  yet  it  may  be  remarked,  in  passing, 
that  true  instances  of  homicidal  mania  have  generally  been 
held  to  be  cases  of  insanity.  Long  courses  of  intemperance 
and  indulgence  in  unnatural  practices  of  many  kinds  will  fre¬ 
quently  dethrone  the  reason  and  leave  the  ruling  passion  in 
undisputed  possession  of  the  citadel.  It  is  with  the  impulse  to 
take  life,  as  it  exists  in  minds  that  still  retain  their  balance, 
still  understand  their  relations  to  their  fellows,  that  we  have 
to  do.  The  line  of  demarkation  is  difficult  to  draw  sometimes, 
and  juries  have  disagreed  in  many  noted  cases. 

As  all  know,  President  Lincoln  fell  at  the  hand  of  an 
assassin  who  was  one  of  a  number  of  conspirators  that  had 
determined  to  accomplish  that  end.  In  this  case  hatred, 
revenge,  a  perverted  notion  of  patriotism  and  a  desire  for 
notoriety,  were  undoubtedly  present  and  united  to  call  into 
activity  the  latent  or  only  half-awakened  homicidal  impulse. 
Had  this  last-named  and  most  powerful  incentive  to  murder 
been  absent,  it  may  well  be  doubted  whether  Booth  would 
have  fired  the  bullet  that  removed  from  scenes  of  most  useful 
activity  one  of  the  best  and  most  conscientious  men  that  ever 
lived,  and  plunged  a  nation  into  the  deepest  grief. 

The  case  of  Charles  J.  Guiteau  is  still  more  nearly  in  line. 
After  his  cowardly  assassination  of  President  Garfield,  he  was 
arrested  and  brought  to  trial.  The  only  defense  offered  was 
that  of  insanity,  which  did  not  avail  to  save  the  wretch  from 
the  scaffold.  In  his  case  the  homicidal  impulse  was  unmis¬ 
takably  present ;  indeed,  he  clearly  manifested  it  by  his  con¬ 
duct  in  court  during  his  long  protracted  trial.  Guiteau  was 
an  egotist  of  the  most  pronounced  type ;  his  audacious  claims 
had  not  been  recognized,  and  he,  apparently,  decided  to  teach 


THE  HOMICIDAL  IMPULSE 


21 


the  world  that  he  was  no  ordinary  man  to  be  thrust  carelessly 
aside,  and  to  gratify  his  spirit  of  revenge  and  the  more  gen¬ 
eral  impulse  to  take  life  at  the  same  time. 

These  cases  will  be  treated  more  at  large  in  their  proper 
place,  in  a  chapter  on  assassination;  they  are  referred  to  here 
as  illustrating  the  operation  of  the  homicidal  impulse. 

Within  recent  years  what  is  known  as  the  Whitechapel  dis¬ 
trict,  in  the  city  of  London — one  of  the  lowest  and  most 
degraded  portions  of  the  great  metropolis — has  been  the  scene 
of  a  long  series  of  most  brutal  and,  to  all  appearances,  unpro¬ 
voked  murders.  The  victims  were  always  women  belonging 
to  the  most  abandoned  class.  Sometimes  they  were  murdered 
in  their  wretched  rooms,  but  generally  they  were  struck  down 
in  one  of  the  narrow  streets,  or  courts,  by  which  the  dis¬ 
reputable  district  is  intersected.  Once  or  twice  a  half-muffled 
cry  has  attracted  the  police,  who  found  a  ghastly,  mutilated 
corpse,  but  no  trace  of  the  murderer. 

Like  the  “Jibbenainosy”  of  Dr.  Bird’s  famous  American 
novel,  “The  Nick  of  the  Woods,”  “Jack  the  Ripper,”  as  the 
unknown  assassin  has  come  to  be  styled,  sets  a  mark  upon 
each  of  his  victims.  As  the  reader  will  remember,  “The  Nick 
of  the  Woods,”  or  “Jibbenainosy”  in  the  Indian  tongue,  turned 
out  to  be  a  supposed  peaceable  and  inoffensive  old  Quaker 
named  Nathan,  who  had  suffered  a  great  wrong  at  the  hands 
of  a  certain  band  of  savages  and  had  sworn  to  be  revenged. 
Whenever  he  killed  one  of  his  enemies,  he  slashed  a  rude  cross 
with  his  hunting  knife  upon  the  dead  man’s  naked  breast,  as  a 
mute  notification  that  he  had  claimed  another  victim.  “Jack 
the  Ripper’  ’  always  mutilated  his  victims  in  a  most  revolting 
manner,  which  was  quite  surprising,  both  from  its  uniformity 
and  from  the  fact  that  it  seemed  to  exhibit  considerable 
knowledge  of  anatomy  on  the  part  of  the  perpetrator.  Large 
rewards  have  been  offered  for  the  arrest  and  conviction  of  the 
monster,  but,  notwithstanding  this,  and  although  the  police  of 
London,  the  detectives  of  Scotland  Yard,  and  the  “Sherlock 
Holmeses”  of  the  press,  have  long  been  put  upon  their  mettle, 
the  mystery,  at  the  present  writing,  remains  as  dark  and 
inscrutable  as  ever.  In  passing,  the  author  cannot  forbear 


22 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


inquiring  why  the  famous  detective-novelist  of  England  does 
not  turn  his  great  talent  into  actual  use  and  make  known  the 
identity  of  “Jack  the  Ripper.  ’  ’  Very  possibly  it  is  because  real 
detective  work  is  more  difficult  than  the  unearthing  of  a 
criminal  whom  the  author  has  himself  “planted”  for  that  very 
purpose. 

It  is  possible  that  the  murderer  has  once,  and  only  once, 
been  seen  by  a  person  who  has  survived  to  report  the  circum¬ 
stance.  This  was  on  the  night  of  September  30,  1888,  when 
the  bodies  of  two  women  were  found  in  the  streets.  One  of 
the  two  victims,  a  Mrs.  Eddows,  was  seen  in  conversation 
with  a  man  in  Miter  Square,  Oldgate,  but  a  few  minutes 
before  the  time,  and  only  a  short  distance  from  the  spot  where 
her  mangled  body  was  discovered.  The  presumption  that  this 
man  was  her  murderer  is  quite  strong.  He  was  described  as 
“aged  about  thirty  to  thirty-five;  height  five  feet  seven  inches, 
with  brown  hair  and  large  moustache;  dressed  respectably; 
wore  a  pea-jacket,  a  muffler,  and  a  cloth  cap,  with  a  peak  of 
the  same  material.  ’  ’ 

In  all,  ten  Whitechapel  murders  have  been  committed. 
The  first  mutilated  body  was  found  on  the  night  of  April  3, 
1888,  near  Osborn  and  Wentworth  streets,  Whitechapel;  the 
name  of  the  victim  being  Emma  Smith.  August  7th,  follow¬ 
ing,  Martha  Turner  was  killed  in  Commercial  Street,  Spittal- 
fields;  while  on  the  31st  of  the  same  month  the  body  of  Mrs. 
Nichols  was  found  in  Bucks-ras,  Whitechapel.  On  the  30th 
of  September  following  this  crime,  the  murderous  wretch 
claimed  two  victims ;  Elizabeth  Strue  being  killed  in  Berner 
Street,  Whitechapel,  and  Mrs.  Eddows  in  Miter  Square, 
Oldgate.  On  the  night  of  November  9,  1888,  the  body  of  Mrs. 
Jane  Kelley  was  found  in  Dorset  Street,  Spittal-fields. 

Whether  the  homicidal  impulse  of  the  wretch  had  become 
satiated  with  this  long  list  of  victims,  is  of  course  not  known, 
but  quite  a  long  interval  elapsed  before  he  again  set  his 
infernal  trademark  on  the  body  of  another  unfortunate 
woman,  that  of  Alice  Mackenzie,  whom  he  murdered  in  Castle 
Alley,  Whitechapel.  It  was  not  until  February  13,  1891, 
that  he  claimed  his  ninth  victim,  Frances  Coles,  whose  body 


THE  HOMICIDAL  IMPULSE 


23 


was  found  in  Royal  Mint  Street.  A  few  days  later  the  tenth 
and  last  body  was  found  in  the  same  locality,  since  which  date 
no  well  authenticated  case  has  come  to  light. 

Numerous  atrocious  murders,  having  points  in  common 
with  the  Whitechapel  horrors,  committed  in  England,  on  the 
Continent  of  Europe,  and  even  in  the  United  States,  have 
been  ascribed  to  “Jack  the  Ripper,”  but  it  does  not  appear 
probable  that  he  was  concerned  in  any  of  these.  The  mutila¬ 
tions  were  done  in  a  comparatively  bungling  manner  and 
point  to  imitators  of  the  original  London  assassin. 

The  theory  most  generally  advanced  and  believed,  touch¬ 
ing  this  depraved  murderer,  is  that  he  has  suffered  from 
intimacy  with  some  abandoned  woman,  probably  in  the 
Whitechapel  district,  and,  like  Nathan,  has  sworn  vengeance 
upon  her  class.  Owing  to  the  intervals  that  elapse  between 
the  outrages,  many  have  surmised  that  “Jack”  is  a  sailor,  who 
makes  long  voyages.  On  account  of  the  scientific  way  in 
which  he  mutilates  his  victims,  others  have  suggested  that  he 
is  a  physician  or  surgeon. 

Although  a  morbid  spirit  of  revenge  probably  lies  at  the 
bottom  of  the  mystery,  the  operation  of  the  homicidal  impulse 
seems  clearly  present.  A  revenge,  however  deeply  implanted 
in  a  depraved  heart,  would,  apparently,  be  gratified  in  time, 
but  the  vindictiveness  of  this  monster  seems  absolutely 
insatiable.  Whatever  cause  lay  at  the  beginning  of  his  awful 
career,  the  impulse  to  kill,  which,  like  jealousy,  grows  by 
what  it  feeds  on,  no  doubt  urges  him  on,  and  may  add  other 
chapters  to  his  horrid  work  before  his  own  death  closes  the 
bloody  volume. 

The  last  suggestion  receives  considerable  support  from  a 
story  recently  current  in  London,  which  made  “Jack  the 
Ripper”  to  be  a  medical  man  of  high  standing.  So  long  as 
the  identity  of  the  man  is  withheld  from  the  public,  the  report 
must  necessarily  be  taken  with  considerable  allowance. 
According  to  the  story,  the  physician  in  question  some  years 
ago  developed  a  mania  for  causing  pain  in  others.  After  a 
time  his  wife  consulted  some  of  his  medical  friends,  who 
in  turn  called  in  the  detectives  of  Scotland  Yard.  Blood- 


24 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


stained  clothing  and  other  evidences  of  murder  were  found  in 
his  house,  and  the  opinion  was  reached  that  he  was  none  other 
than  “Jack  the  Ripper.”  Interrogated  upon  the  subject,  he 
denied  all  knowledge  of  the  matter,  but  admitted  that  there 
were  frequently  intervals  of  twenty-four  hours  of  which  he  had 
not  the  slightest  recollection.  As  a  result  of  the  investiga¬ 
tion,  which  was  privately  conducted,  the  doctor  was  confined 
in  an  asylum  on  a  charge  of  insanity,  after  which  the  White¬ 
chapel  murders  entirely  ceased.  This  story,  which  has  about 
it  a  strong  flavor  of  “Dr.  Jekyl  and  Mr.  Hyde,”  may  be 
entirely  fictitious,  but  it  suggests  a  very  reasonable  solution  of 
the  awful  mystery. 

Those  who  delight  in  the  possession  and  exercise  of  the 
homicidal  impulse,  unless,  indeed,  they  have  passed  com¬ 
pletely  under  its  influence,  seek  some  form  of  justification  for 
the  awful  crime  of  murder;  not  justification  to  the  world  only 
should  their  dark  deeds  be  discovered,  but  to  themselves  as 
well.  Lord  Byron  makes  that  evil  genius  of  his,  “Manfred,” 
upon  the  cliff  of  Jungfrau,  say: 

“  *  *  *  *  I  have  ceased 

To  justify  my  deeds  unto  myself — 

The  last  infirmity  of  evil.” 

In  seeming  obedience  to  this,  trifling  injuries  are  often 
exaggerated  and  sustained  until  the  would-be  perpetrator  can 
“screw  his  courage  to  the  sticking  place.”  Indeed,  it  cannot 
well  be  doubted  that  many  acts  of  revenge,  where  the  injury 
has  been  real  and  great,  have  been  ultimately  consummated 
through  the  powerful  stimulus  of  the  inherent  disposition  to 
slay.  Commendable,  or  only  slightly  reprehensible  acts,  have 
often  been  made  to  serve  this  dark  purpose.  In  the  latter 
class  falls  a  curious  work  written  by  an  English  clergyman, 
named  Thomas  R.  Malthus,  about  the  beginning  of  the  pres¬ 
ent  century. 

In  the  judgment,  or  rather  superheated  imagination  of  this 
writer,  over-population  is  the  impending  danger  of  the  world, 
and  vice,  crime,  and  murder  itself,  are  the  agencies  appointed 
by  the  Creator  for  keeping  the  growth  of  the  human  race 
within  proper  limits.  His  book  produced  a  sensation  when  it 


THE  HOMICIDAL  IMPULSE 


25 


appeared,  and  gave  rise  to  not  a  few  curious  publications  fol¬ 
lowing  out  the  same  line  of  thought.  All  these  later  books 
were  ostensibly  serious,  yet,  in  the  light  of  after  years,  some 
of  them  would  seem  to  have  been  satirical,  both  in  conception 
and  expression. 

One  of  the  professed  disciples  of  Malthus  was  an  anony¬ 
mous  writer,  whose  absurd  generalizations,  probably  written 
in  a  satirical  vein,  aroused  the  animadversion  of  a  large  class 
of  hostile  reviewers.  The  critics  believed,  or  professed  to 
believe,  that  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  of  these  Malthusian 
volumes  was  an  expose  of  the  ulterior  aims  of  an  organized 
clique.  The  criticism  is,  in  a  sense,  amusing,  but  it  is  hardly 
worth  quoting.  The  interest  in  the  publication  centers  around 
its  contents.  The  author  cites  the  theory  of  Malthus  as  the 
groundwork  of  his  argument,  and  follows  it  out  to  its  legiti¬ 
mate  conclusion.  He  extols  slavery  and  infanticide  as  legiti¬ 
mate  means  for  the  achievement  of  a  great  end.  In  fact,  he 
cites  with  approval  the  practice,  in  the  latter  regard,  of  the 
nations  of  antiquity,  who,  in  consequence,  suffered  but  little 
from  over-population,  and  urges  the  adoption  of  legislation 
providing  for  the  killing  of  all  the  children  of  the  poor  exceed¬ 
ing  the  limit  of  three  in  each  family,  except  in  Ireland, 
where  the  limit  should  be  one.  .  To  carry  this  design  into 
execution,  he  advocates  the  formation  of  an  association  under 
the  legislative  sanction.  He  also  proposes  State  supervision 
of  all  persons  who  might  not  own  property  of  a  specified 
value,  who  should  be  required  to  surrender  their  children  to 
be  put  to  death  by  suffocation.  To  reconcile  parents  to  this 
wholesale  “Slaughter  of  the  Innocents,”  he  would  have  intro¬ 
duced  a  virtual  system  of  bribery,  granting  an  income  to  those 
who  voluntarily  parted  with  their  infants,  especially  liberal 
rewards  being  bestowed  upon  those  who  rendered  themselves 
wholly  childless.  By  way  of  defense  of  his  position,  he  took 
the  ground  that  parents  had  no  natural  right  to  rear  more  chil¬ 
dren  than  were  required  by  the  wants  of  society.  Nor  did  he 
concede  the  inherent  right  of  an  infant  to  its  own  life,  claim¬ 
ing  that  of  this  the  State  was  the  sole  judge.  He  suggested 
that  mothers  might  be  reconciled  to  the  murder  of  their  babes 


26 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


by  presenting  to  their  minds  gay  and  lively  images,  and 
through  being  taught  that  it  was  absolutely  necessary  that  a 
certain  number  of  children  be  sacrificed.  The  massacred 
infants  were  to  be  interred  in  beautiful  colonnades,  to  be 
known  as  “The  Infant’s  Paradise,”  to  be  adorned  with 
flowers  and  plants,  and  to  be  enlivened  by  scenes  of  chastened 
recreation.  Lastly,  the  author  explained  his  theory  of  “pain¬ 
less  extinction.”  Infants  were  to  be  asphyxiated  during  their 
first  slumber,  which  was  thus  transformed  into  the  unending 
sleep  of  death. 

This  volume,  which  is  in  itself  a  curio,  was  published 
anonymously,  and  was  probably  intended  as  a  satire.  It  was 
not  so  regarded,  however,  by  the  irate  reviewers  of  the  time. 
They  called  it  “The  Book  of  Murder.”  One  of  these  indig¬ 
nant  gentlemen  thus  quaintly  denounces  the  hideous  joke: 
“The  veil  is  at  length  rent;  the  curtain,  behind  which  have 
hitherto  lurked  the  most  atrocious  conspiracies  against 
humanity,  has  at  length  been  drawn  up.  With  a  false  and 
insidious  philosophy,  they  have  nourished  the  most  foul  and 
murderous  sentiments  in  their  hearts.  With  the  fawning  and 
hypocritical  cant  of  seeking  for  the  safety  and  peace  of  society, 
they  have  actually  plotted  and  schemed  and  prepared  the 
means  of  perpetrating  the  murder  of  more  than  one-half  of 
the  infants  to  be  born  into  the  world,  the  assassination  of  more 
than  half  of  the  future  races  of  mankind.” 

The  work  of  Malthus,  and  even  that  of  the  anonymous 
author  referred  to,  made  many  disciples.  For  the  most  part, 
these  were  innocent  “cranks,”  but  much  evil  has  been  done 
to  mankind  through  the  propagation  of  such  monstrous  doc¬ 
trines.  In  the  ensuing  chapter  a  remarkable  instance  of  this 
will  be  given,  as  further  illustrating  the  homicidal  impulse, 
and  showing  how  readily  it  is  sometimes  forced  into  a  state  of 
activity. 


CHAPTER  III 


A  CURIOUS  INSTANCE  OF  THE  HOMICIDAL 

IMPULSE 

Early  in  the  present  century  there  was  committed  in  several 
of  the  smaller  cities  and  towns  of  France  and  Germany  a  series 
of  crimes  of  a  revolting  character.  Although  separate  and 
distinct,  they  were  so  far  connected  that  they  all  resulted  from 
one  single  motive,  and  were  perpetrated  by  the  same  indi¬ 
vidual,  who  was  entirely  without  confederates.  So  far  as  the 
author  knows,  the  principal  facts  were  first  collected  in 
Howitt’s  Journal,  published  more  than  sixty  years  ago,  and  it 
is  from  that  source  that  much  of  the  present  material  has  been 
drawn.  The  better  to  present  the  case  to  the  reader,  the 
matter  has  been  put  into  the  form  of  a  connected  narrative, 
although  the  salient  points  remain  as  they  appear  in  the  first 
published  accounts. 

One  bright  morning  in  1828,  a  laborer  named  Jacques 
Moulin  set  out  from  his  home  to  walk  to  Puy  St.  O’ Stein,  a 
small  village  in  the  province  of  Languedoc,  France.  As  he 
approached  the  quaint  old  town,  traveling  along  a  public  and 
much-frequented  highway,  he  was  shot  and  killed  from  the 
roadside.  The  police  were  speedily  notified,  and  at  once 
began  an  investigation,  which,  however,  led  to  nothing  tan¬ 
gible,  so  far  as  providing  a  clue  to  the  identity  of  the  perpe¬ 
trator.  The  report  of  the  magistrate  who  conducted  the 
inquiry  showed  that  the  deceased  was  a  quiet,  inoffensive 
man,  generally  regarded  as  rather  simple-minded.  All  the 
witnesses  agreed  that  he  had  not  an  enemy  in  the  world, 
being,  on  the  contrary,  a  universal  favorite  with  all  who  knew 
him.  Robbery  was  evidently  not  the  motive  of  the  crime,  for 
on  the  body  was  found  a  sum  of  money,  small,  it  is  true,  but 
quite  as  much  as  a  poor  peasant  could  be  expected  to  carry. 

27 


2& 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


The  magistrate’s  conclusion  was  that  the  unfortunate  Jacques 
had  been  mistaken  for  another  person,  against  whom  the  mur¬ 
derer  had  a  grudge,  or  from  whose  body  he  expected  to  secure 
a  substantial  sum  of  money. 

And  yet  the  homicide  had  not  been  committed  entirely 
outside  human  sight  and  hearing.  When  the  first  person 
attracted  by  the  shot  arrived  upon  the  scene,  he  found,  seated 
beside  the  body,  an  old  man  with  a  wooden  leg,  who  was 
complacently  engaged  in  reading  a  well-thumbed  book. 
Upon  being  brought  before  the  magistrate,  this  person  told 
quite  a  coherent  and  natural  story,  which  failed,  however,  to 
throw  the  slightest  light  upon  the  mysterious  murder. 

He  deposed  that,  while  seated  upon  the  river  bank,  a  short 
distance  from  Puy  St.  O’ Stein,  he  was  startled  by  a  report 
from  some  sort  of  firearm,  which  seemed  to  proceed  from  the 
hedge  behind  him.  Then,  for  the  first  time,  he  noticed 
Moulin,  who  cried  out,  “Eh!  mon  Dieu,  Porquoi?’’  (Oh!  My 
God!  Why?),  and  instantly  fell  forward  upon  his  face  in  the 
dust  of  the  road.  When  interrogated  by  the  magistrate  as  to 
his  subsequent  conduct,  the  old  cripple  explained  that  he  had 
risen  and  approached  the  prostrate  man  as  quickly  as  the 
nature  of  his  infirmity  permitted.  He  speedily  satisfied  him¬ 
self  that  life  was  extinct,  after  which  he  looked  carefully  in  all 
directions  in  hope  of  espying  the  murderer,  but  was  unable  to 
see  any  one.  His  crippled  condition  rendered  it  impossible 
for  him  to  raise  the  body,  so  he  sat  down  and  philosophically 
awaited  the  arrival  of  assistance. 

The  occurrence  excited  great  interest  and  wonder  in  the 
community,  but  the  utter  absence  of  any  conceivable  motive 
on  the  part  of  any  one  to  commit  the  crime,  rendered  fruitless 
all  efforts  on  the  part  of  the  authorities  to  discover  the  mur¬ 
derer. 

A  few  weeks  later,  at  a  small  tavern  on  the  road  leading 
from  St.  Gervaise  to  Clermont,  another  mysterious  and  sen¬ 
sational  murder  was  committed.  The  victim  was  a  man 
named  Auguste  Vivier,  a  traveler,  who  had  stopped  at  the 
tavern  to  procure  some  needed  refreshment.  Like  the 
laborer  of  Languedoc,  Vivier  was  killed  by  a  gun-shot  wound. 


INSTANCE  OF  HOMICIDAL  IMPULSE  29 


He  was  found  by  the  innkeeper  and  his  wife,  lying  with  his 
face  upon  the  ground,  where  he  had  fallen  from  a  bench  upon 
which  he  had  been  sitting.  It  seemed  rather  a  remarkable 
coincidence  that  the  only  witness  should  be  the  philosophical 
old  man  with  the  wooden  leg,  who,  being  on  his  way  to  St. 
Gervaise,  had  likewise  stopped  there  for  some  refreshment. 
The  old  cripple  stated  that  while  the  deceased  and  himself 
were  sitting  on  opposite  benches,  somebody  had  fired  a  gun  or 
pistol,  he  could  not  say  which,  from  behind  the  garden  paling, 
when  Vivier  immediately  fell  forward  to  the  ground. 
Crippled  as  he  was,  he  had  been  unable  to  pursue  the  assassin, 
or  even  follow  quickly  enough  to  discover  his  identity,  but  he 
had  called  loudly  for  help. 

Public  excitement  had  barely  subsided  when  a  third  mur¬ 
der,  equally  mysterious  and  seemingly  as  motiveless,  was 
committed  in  the  neighboring  province  of  Guienne.  This 
time  the  victim  was  a  silversmith  of  Lausanne,  who,  while 
taking  an  evening’s  recreation  in  a  little  boat  on  the  Garonne, 
was  fatally  shot  through  the  body. 

Like  poor  Moulin,  the  silversmith  was  entirely  alone  at  the 
time  the  deed  was  perpetrated,  but,  as  in  the  former  case, 
there  had  been  a  witness.  This,  as  the  reader  will  doubtless 
surmise,  was  none  other  than  our  friend  with  the  wooden  leg. 
The  coincidence  went  even  further,  for  he  was  reclining  on 
the  bank  of  the  river  immured  in  the  contents  of  his  dog-eared 
book. 

Seventy  years  ago,  the  rural  police  of  France  were 
undoubtedly  easy-going  and  more  interested  in  discussing  the 
contents  of  wine  cellars  than  in  detecting  crime,  yet  it  began 
to  dawn  upon  them  that  the  literary  cripple  had  fallen  into  a 
decided  habit  of  being  present  when  mysterious  murders  were 
committed,  and,  in  what  may  be  termed  a  “lucid  interval,” 
they  took  the  old  man  into  custody.  The  mere  circumstance 
that  he  had  been  the  sole  witness  to  three  assassinations  would 
probably  not  have  sufficed  to  arouse  any  special  suspicion  on 
the  part  of  these  Gallic  Dogberrys,  but  the  murdered  man  had 
not  died  without  making  an  ante-mortem  statement.  Retain¬ 
ing  his  self-possession,  he  averred,  that  while  pressing  one 


30 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


hand  to  his  side  he  had  raised  himself  in  the  boat  and  looked 
about  for  the  murderer.  The  only  person  to  be  seen  was  an 
old  man  lying  prone  on  the  grass  engaged  in  reading  a  book. 

What,  in  those  days,  was  termed  a  most  rigid  search,  dis¬ 
closed  nothing  upon  him  but  a  book,  a  tobacco  pouch,  and 
money  to  the  amount  of  two  francs  and  five  centimes — about 
forty-two  cents — none  of  the  articles  being  to  the  smallest 
extent  incriminating,  or  even  suspicious. 

Being  interrogated,  he  answered  without  the  slightest 
reserve,  seeming  rather  anxious  to  give  any  information  in 
his  possession.  He  gave  his  name  as  Armande  Geraud,  and 
said  that  he  had  served  in  Marshal  Soult’s  division  throughout 
the  campaigns  in  Italy  and  Austria.  He  had  saved  the  mar¬ 
shal’s  life  at  Austerlitz,  in  which  battle  he  had  lost  a  leg. 
Ever  since  that  memorable  day,  he  had  received  a  pension 
from  Soult.  He  had  a  little  son  at  school  at  Bordeaux,  and 
had  been  on  his  way  to  visit  him  when  taken  into  custody. 
He  gave  his  age  as  fifty-nine,  and  said  that  he  was  a  stranger 
in  the  province.  The  notes  of  the  police  contained  the  minute 
that  his  complexion  was  sallow  and  his  countenance  thought¬ 
ful.  His  education  was  above  the  average,  and  the  cast  of  his 
mind  rather  philosophic.  This  mental  trait,  in  the  opinion  of 
the  police,  indicated  a  possibility  for  the  perpetration  of  fraud 
which  might  have  induced  a  disposition  toward  the  commis¬ 
sion  of  a  crime  of  violence.  The  book  which  he  carried  with 
him,  a  well-thumbed  volume,  was  a  French  translation  of  an 
English  work  on  “Over-population,”  by  a  clergyman  named 
Malthus. 

The  police  promptly  investigated  the  man’s  story.  Marshal 
Soult  not  only  corroborated  the  statement  of  Armande  Geraud, 
as  he  was  supposed  to  be,  but  added  that  the  party  in  question 
had  been  a  brave  and  honest  soldier,  and,  in  the  opinion  of  the 
gallant  Marshal  of  France,  he  was  incapable  of  any  base  or 
criminal  act.  Apparently  this  confirmed  one  part  of  the  sup¬ 
posed  culprit’s  story.  The  next  point  to  be  investigated  was 
the  parentage  of  the  boy  at  Bordeaux,  and  the  whereabouts  of 
the  latter.  Inquiry  was  made  at  the  latter  point  concerning 
the  alleged  son  of  Geraud.  For  a  long  time  no  child  answering 


INSTANCE  OF  HOMICIDAL  IMPULSE  31 


the  description  given  by  the  prisoner  could  be  found  at  any  of 
the  schools  in  that  city.  At  length  it  was  learned  that  a  boy 
of  thirteen  years  had,  within  a  comparatively  recent  time,  left 
one  of  the  pauper  schools  of  the  municipality  to  secure  employ¬ 
ment  in  a  small  shop  of  disreputable  character  in  the  suburbs. 
Here  he  acted  as  shoeblack  and  errand-boy.  Upon  gaining 
this  information,  the  police  notified  the  suspected  murderer  of 
what  they  had  ascertained.  The  old  man  seemed  to  be  com¬ 
pletely  overwhelmed  with  grief.  His  acting,  if  acting  it  was, 
was  so  consummate  that,  joined  to  the  reports  elicited 
through  the  investigation,  the  police  did  not  for  a  moment 
doubt  his  innocence.  Accordingly  he  was  discharged  from 
custody,  and  a  few  francs  were  given  him  by  the  magistrate 
in  order  that  he  might  be  enabled  more  comfortably  to  pursue 
his  journey  toward  Bordeaux,  whither  he  went  with  a  view  of 
rescuing  his  unfortunate  child  from  the  disreputable  surround¬ 
ings  into  which  he  had  fallen. 

But  the  old  soldier  of  the  First  Empire,  with  his  wooden 
leg  and  precious  volume  of  Malthus,  did  not  here  terminate 
his  extraordinary  experiences  as  the  solitary  witness  of 
mysterious  murders.  For  several  years  he  disappeared  from 
the  notice  of  the  police,  but  modestly  presented  himself  again 
in  1836.  On  August  15th  of  that  year  an  English  family 
named  Stuart  arrived  at  Godesburg,  a  small  town  on  the 
Rhine,  and  took  up  their  abode  at  the  principal  hotel  of  the 
place.  They  were  accompanied  by  a  Prussian  valet  and  an 
English  maid.  There  had  been  a  mutual  promise  of  marriage 
between  the  latter,  but  the  engagement  had  been  broken  off, 
in  consequence  of  the  dissatisfaction  on  the  part  of  the  young 
woman  with  the  character  of  her  lover.  On  the  evening  of 
their  arrival  the  two  left  the  hotel  together  for  a  walk  along 
the  road  that  led  to  Rolandseck.  The  valet  returned  alone  at 
ten  o’clock,  looking  very  pale.  When  interrogated  concern¬ 
ing  his  companion  by  members  of  the  Stuart  family,  he  dis¬ 
claimed  any  knowledge  of  her  whereabouts.  The  alarm  and 
distress  of  her  employers  was  extreme,  and  they  were  greatly 
horrified  when,  on  the  next  morning,  her  corpse  was  found  at 
the  foot  of  an  apple  tree  standing  on  the  high  road,  with  a 


32 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


bullet  wound  in  the  right  side.  That  the  motive  of  the 
unknown  assassin  was  not  robbery  was  shown  by  the  fact  that 
several  articles  of  jewelry  and  a  little  money  was  found  upon 
her  person.  As  a  matter  of  course,  the  valet  was  arrested 
and  arraigned  before  a  magistrate,  charged  with  the  murder. 
His  story  appeared  utterly  preposterous.  In  substance  it  was 
that  Jane  Simpson,  the  maid,  had  urged  him  to  throw  stones 
into  the  fruit  trees  on  the  road-side,  notwithstanding  the  fact 
that  he  had  assured  her  that  the  apples  were  totally  unfit  to 
eat.  She  continued  to  beg  him,  and,  complying  with  her 
request,  he  finally  looked  about  for  stones  which  he  might 
throw  into  the  trees,  and  while  thus  engaged,  at  some  little 
distance  from  his  sweetheart,  he  heard  a  shot  which  seemed 
to  have  been  fired  from  the  field  beyond  the  trees,  and  the 
unfortunate  maid  fell  to  the  ground  with  a  shriek.  He  said 
that  he  perceived  that  his  situation  was  a  very  compromising 
one,  and  he  was  apprehensive  that  he  would  be  accused  of  her 
murder.  Accordingly,  he  made  the  best  of  his  way  back  to 
the  inn  and  denied  any  knowledge  of  the  girl’s  fate.  This 
tale  was  not  believed,  and,  indeed,  appearances  were  strongly 
against  him;  he  was  tried,  found  guilty,  and  executed  at 
Cologne. 

This  succession  of  tragic  events  so  seriously  affected  Mrs. 
Stuart’s  nervous  system  that  her  physician  advised  a  delay  of 
a  few  days  at  Godesburg.  By  September  3rd  she  began  to 
convalesce,  and  was  persuaded  by  her  husband  to  take  a  short 
drive  through  the  surrounding  country.  On  reaching  a 
wooded  eminence,  on  the  road  leading  to  Rolandseck,  the 
carriage  was  halted  and  the  occupants  alighted.  Mrs.  Stuart, 
not  feeling  equal  to  the  exertion  of  climbing  the  hill, 
remained  reclining  on  the  ground  in  company  with  a  German 
maid  whom  she  had  hired  to  take  the  place  of  the  English 
maid  who  had  been  murdered.  Mr.  Stuart,  accompanied  by 
a  favorite  dog,  ascended  the  hill.  Having  reached  the  top,  he 
passed  under  a  ruined  arch,  covered  by  a  dense  growth  of 
shrubbery  and  vines,  and  from  which  an  extensive  view  of  the 
charming  scenery  peculiar  to  that  part  of  Germany  could  be 
had.  While  thus  engaged,  the  report  of  a  firearm  of  some 


A  CAFE. — 


JO- 


STRAND  IK 


MCRDKF 


IX 


PAGE 


INSTANCE  OF  HOMICIDAL  IMPULSE  33 


sort  from  the  woods  beneath,  followed  by  a  cry,  startled  him. 
The  recent  tragic  death  of  Jane  Simpson  at  once  occurred  to 
his  mind,  and,  filled  with  alarm,  he  hurried  down  the  hill, 
preceded  by  his  dog.  Here  he  found  his  wife  sitting  where  he 
had  left  her ;  she  had  fainted,  but  was  recovering.  One  side 
of  her  bonnet  had  been  cut  away  by  the  shot  and  the  maid  had 
been  wounded  in  the  arm.  Mr.  Stuart,  with  his  son  and 
some  of  the  people  of  the  neighborhood,  at  once  proceeded  to 
search  the  woods  and  bushes  in  all  directions.  The  instinct 
of  the  dog,  however,  was  keener  than  that  of  the  men;  he 
made  a  sudden  dart  into  •  the  corner  of  the  thicket,  and  began 
barking  loudly  at  something  which  he  seemed  to  have  dis¬ 
covered  there. 

Arriving  upon  the  scene,  Mr.  Stuart  found  an  old  man 
seated  upon  the  ground  under  a  tree,  intently  engaged  in  read¬ 
ing  a  book.  It  was  none  other  than  Armande  Geraud,  the 
hero  of  Austerlitz  and  the  protege  of  Marshal  Soult,  who,  after 
eight  years  retirement  from  active  service  as  a  witness  in 
mysterious  cases  of  assassination,  had  suddenly  reappeared  upon 
the  scene  of  action.  So  far  from  being  perturbed  at  the 
interruption  of  his  literary  pursuits,  he  placed  a  twig  in  his 
book  to  mark  a  striking  passage  of  the  unique  statistician, 
Malthus,  and,  with  a  smile  that  would  have  done  credit  to  a 
Socrates,  looked  up  inquiringly  at  the  dog  and  his  human 
companions.  When  asked  if  he  had  seen  anybody  pass  he 
glanced  at  the  closed  volume  and  smilingly  shook  his  head,  as 
if  to  indicate  that  such  a  thing  was  altogether  out  of  the 
question  while  perusing  such  an  absorbing  book.  Satisfied  that 
he  could  gain  no  information  of  value  from  the  old  man,  Mr. 
Stuart  was  about  to  hurry  away  to  search  other  portions  of 
the  wood,  when  a  peculiar  expression  of  mingled  triumph  and 
satisfaction  upon  the  cripple’s  face  attracted  his  attention, 
and  he  decided  to  ask  him  to  accompany  him  to  the  town. 
He  followed  without  the  smallest  objection,  and  with  as  much 
alacrity  as  his  wooden  leg  permitted.  The  details  of  the  affair 
being  communicated  to  the  police,  the  old  man  was  placed 
under  arrest. 

The  suspected  individual  said  that  his  name  was  Gottlieb 


34 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 

Rinhalter,  and  that  he  had  served  through  the  campaigns  of 
1812  and  1813,  having  lost  his  leg  in  the  battle  of  Leipsic.  To 
prove  his  assertions,  he  showed  a  paper  certifying  to  the  fact, 
bearing  the  signature  of  an  inferior  officer  who  had  long  since 
died.  Being  asked  what  were  his  means  of  support,  he 
answered  that  he  maintained  himself  by  rendering  services  as 
an  accountant  and  a  calculator.  Being  examined,  he  showed 
that  he  could  write  well  and  possessed  some  knowledge  of 
figures,  besides  having  an  ingenious  method  of  calculation, 
which  he  had  taught  himself.  From  the  character  of  the  book 
which  he  carried,  the  magistrate  noted  that  he  evidently  took 
a  decided  interest  in  the  statistical  estimates  with  which  it 
abounded,  its  dog-eared  and  dirty  condition  showing  how  long 
and  how  closely  it  had  been  studied.  No  weapons  were  found 
upon  him,  and  as  his  account  of  himself  was  most  satisfactory, 
he  was  discharged. 

For  the  ensuing  two  years  the  maimed  old  soldier  seems 
to  have  confined  his  attention  to  the  arguments  and  statistics 
of  Malthus,  relieving  them,  it  may  be,  by  dipping  into  the 
pages  of  those  anonymous  authors  who  carried  his  theories 
forward  to  their  legitimate  conclusions.  At  any  rate,  no 
mention  of  him  is  discovered  in  the  criminal  annals  of  France 
from  the  time  of  his  discharge  by  the  authorities  at  Godes- 
burg  until  the  month  of  March,  1838,  when  he  again  presented 
himself  to  the  attention  of  the  police. 

One  evening  in  that  month,  a  man  was  noticed  striding 
hurriedly  along  the  principal  street  of  the  ancient  city  of 
Wittenberg,  in  Prussian  Saxony — a  city  made  famous  for  all 
time  as  the  cradle  of  the  great  Protestant  Reformation.  His 
appearance  and  bearing  were  well  calculated  to  attract  the 
attention  and  cause  him  to  be  remembered.  He  was  of  heavy 
build,  wore  a  blouse  and  a  cap  stuck  well  back  upon  his  head. 
This  personage  attracted  further  attention  by  constantly 
glancing  about,  as  if  fearful  of  being  observed  and  followed. 

Just  as  the  clock  in  the  tower  of  the  old  university  where 
Martin  Luther  held  a  professorship,  struck  nine,  the  myste¬ 
rious  personage,  unknown  to  the  honest  burghers,  disappeared 
from  view. 


INSTANCE  OF  HOMICIDAL  IMPULSE  35 


Along  the  bank  of  the  Elbe  at  Wittenberg  there  is  an 
ancient  dyke,  and  on  the  top  of  this  he  was  seen  walking  alone 
an  hour  later.  Presently  he  was  joined  by  another  stout 
man,  attired  much  like  himself,  with  whom  he  stood  for  some 
time  engaged,  apparently,  in  earnest  conversation.  At  the 
expiration  of  something  like  half  an  hour,  they  were  joined  by 
a  third  party.  The  new-comer  bore  a  marked  contrast  to  his 
tw’o  companions.  He  was  tall,  his  lank  form  being  enveloped 
in  a  long  dark  cloak,  and  wore  a  high,  pointed,  broad-brimmed 
hat.  People  who  were  observing  them  judged  from  the  fre¬ 
quency  and  vehemency  of  their  gesticulations,  that  a  confer¬ 
ence  of  decided  importance  was  being  carried  on.  The 
curiosity  of  several  of  the  townspeople  was  not  satisfied  until 
they  separated  at  midnight,  each  going  in  a  different  direction. 

The  following  morning  the  town  fair  opened,  and  all  the 
hotels  were  busily  preparing  for  the  reception  of  expected 
guests.  In  a  back  room  of  one  of  the  coffee-houses,  three  men 
were  sitting  talking  earnestly  together.  Two  of  them  were 
the  mysterious  individuals  in  blouses  who  had  been  seen 
together  on  the  dyke  the  night  before,  their  tall  companion — 
still  wearing  his  enormous  cloak  and  pointed  hat — standing 
outside  the  window,  but  near  enough  to  hear  whatever  was 
said  inside.  Suddenly  one  of  the  men  rose,  walked  to  the 
casement,  and  then  left  the  room,  whereupon  the  tall  stranger 
moved  hastily  away.  Almost  simultaneously  a  shot  was 
heard  in  the  apartment,  and  when  the  crowd  of  excited  men 
rushed  through  the  door  they  were  horrified  to  find  that  one 
of  the  men  had  received  a  bullet  wound  through  his  body. 
His  companion,  too  startled  to  speak,  pointed  to  the  open 
window.  Thereupon  some  of  the  crowd  hurried  to  the  street, 
where  they  saw  a  tall  man  covered  with  a  cloak  walking 
rapidly  away.  He  was  followed  and  taken  in  charge  by  the 
police.  Concealed  under  his  waistcoat,  hung  through  one  of 
his  braces,  was  found  a  pistol.  It  was  soon  learned  that  he 
was  a  Tyrolesian  huckster  who  peddled  handkerchiefs,  scarfs, 
table-cloths  and  other  goods  made  from  cotton  and  woolen 
fabrics.  He  loudly  protested  his  innocence  of  any  attempt 
upon  the  life  of  Gustav  Grimm,  which  was  the  name  of  the 


36 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


murdered  man,  and  invoked  the  entire  calendar  of  blessed 
saints  to  witness  that  he  had  never  even  conceived  of  a  deed 
so  awful.  As  to  the  pistol  which  had  been  found  upon  him, 
he  told  that  he  had  purchased  it  at  the  suggestion  of  one 
Gottlieb  Rinhalter,  to  be  used  for  the  purpose  of  self-defense 
while  traveling  about  the  country.  He  had  known  the  mur¬ 
dered  man  personally,  and  had  transacted  some  business  with 
him  and  Rinhalter,  but  had  never  had  any  misunderstanding  of 
any  sort  with  Grimm,  nor  was  there  any  reason  why  he  should 
desire  his  death.  The  pistol  which  was  taken  from  him  was 
found  not  to  be  loaded,  and  he  said  he  never  had  it  charged 
since  it  had  been  in  his  possession,  a  statement  which  the 
appearance  of  the  weapon  seemingly  confirmed. 

The  only  witness  to  the  shooting  was  a  man  well  advanced 
in  years,  who  gave  the  name  of  Gottlieb  Rinhalter.  The 
report  shows  that  he  wore  a  wooden  leg,  but,  very  possibly 
through  an  oversight,  makes  no  mention  of  his  having  been 
engaged  in  reading  the  book  which  lay  upon  the  table  before 
him.  Notwithstanding  this  variation,  he  was  none  other  than 
the  gray-haired  disciple  of  Malthus.  He  was  at  once  recog¬ 
nized,  for  his  face  and  appearance  were  well  known  at  fairs 
and  markets,  where  he  occasionally  obtained  employment  as 
an  accountant  and  a  go-between  in  bargains.  Besides  these 
occupations,  he  sometimes  acted  as  interpreter,  being  able  to 
speak  both  French  and  German  fluently.  He  said  that  some 
one  had  fired  the  fatal  shot  through  the  open  window ;  who,  he 
did  not  know.  He  was  subjected  to  a  rigid  verbal  examina¬ 
tion,  and  his  person  was  searched  but  no  weapon  found  upon 
him.  Nevertheless,  circumstances  appeared  to  warrant 
detaining  him  in  custody,  although,  so  far  as  learned,  there 
was  no  proof  that  he  had  been  connected  with  the  shooting, 
either  as  a  principal  or  an  accomplice. 

At  this  juncture  of  affairs,  Mr.  Stuart  and  his  family 
arrived  at  Wittenberg,  and  the  gentleman  immediately  applied 
for  permission  to  see  Rinhalter,  whom  he  at  once  identified. 
This  confirmed  the  suspicions  of  the  police,  who  had  been 
busily  inventing  all  sorts  of  theories  and  making  no  end  of 
investigations,  but  without  success.  Rinhalter  was  subjected 


INSTANCE  OF  HOMICIDAL  IMPULSE  37 


to  a  further  and  more  rigorous  examination,  but  nothing 
positively  incriminating  was  discovered.  It  is  likely  that  he 
would  have  been  ultimately  released  had  it  not  been  for  the 
fact  that  Gustav  Grimm  did  not  die  immediately.  He  lingered 
for  several  days,  and  just  before  his  death  rallied  sufficiently 
to  make  an  ante-mortem  statement,  and  to  identify  his  mur¬ 
derer.  The  story  was  strange  in  the  extreme.  Left  alone 
with  Gottlieb  Rinhalter  in  the  room,  they  sat  beside  each  other 
with  a  chair  between  them.  Soon  after  the  departure  of 
their  companion,  one  Nicholas  Holst,  the  cripple  slowly  raised 
his  wooden  leg,  and  laid  it  horizontally  across  the  chair  which 
stood  between  Grimm  and  himself.  As  his  victim  looked  into 
the  assassin’s  face,  he  said  he  observed  it  was  lit  up  by  a 
strange  smile.  The  next  moment  came  a  report  and  a  bullet 
entered  Grimm’s  body.  Then  Gottlieb  instantly  lowered  his 
wooden  leg,  but  not  before  the  wounded  man  had  perceived  a 
smoke  curling  from  its  stump. 

Rinhalter  was  now  searched  for  the  third  time  and  the 
mystery  clearly  explained.  His  wooden  leg  contained  a  long 
pistol-barrel,  and  attached  to  it  was  a  trigger  that  might  be 
worked  by  means  of  a  string  which  passed  from  it  into  his 
right-hand  pocket.  This  contrivance  had  enabled  him,  as  he 
afterwards  coolly  explained,  to  rest  his  combination  false-leg 
and  horse-pistol  in  a  horizontal  position  and  take  deliberate 
and  quite  accurate  aim,  without  attracting  the  slightest  atten¬ 
tion.  He  could  discharge  the  improvised  weapon  without 
taking  his  hand  from  his  pocket,  and  had  thus  been  able  to 
maintain  the  secret  of  his  masked  battery.  It  seems  almost 
impossible  that  he  could  have  been  several  times  searched 
without  his  clumsy  contrivance  being  discovered,  yet  the  fact 
is  very  clearly  established.  It  furnishes  rather  a  severe  com¬ 
mentary  on  the  efficiency  of  the  French  and  German  police  in 
the  early  part  of  this  century.  And  yet  we  must  not  be  too 
severe  upon  foreign  methods,  since  one  noted  American 
burglar  carried  a  whole  kit  of  tools  concealed  in  his  wooden 
leg,  and  is  said  to  have  escaped  from  prison  by  their  use. 

The  long  list  of  murders  and  attempted  murders  which  had 
been  wrapped  in  most  profound  mystery  was  fully  explained 


38 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


by  this  discovery.  During  the  progress  of  his  trial  the  story 
of  his  life  was  brought  out,  down  to  minute  details.  Many  of 
the  facts  he  supplied  himself,  and  that  with  as  much  self- 
possession  as  if  he  had  been  recounting  a  career  of  usefulness 
and  honor.  He  had  been  born  at  Tours,  France,-  and  his  real 
name  was  Raoul  Croc.  His  father  had  been  a  Frenchman  and 
his  mother  a  native  of  Germany.  The  former  was  a  barber, 
and  the  latter  a  rope  dancer;  and  he,  himself,  had  early  begun 
to  lead  a  roving  life.  The  amputation  of  his  leg  had  been 
rendered  necessary  by  the  bite  of  a  dog,  and  he  had  never 
received  any  pension  from  the  government,  nor  had  he  ever 
been  a  soldier. 

At  first  the  authorities  were  inclined  to  consider  him  insane, 
as  no  possible  motive  for  his  crimes  could  be  conjectured. 
But  they  were  not  to  remain  long  of  this  opiniop.  Once 
satisfied  that  his  conviction  and  execution  were  certain,  his 
reserved  manner  disappeared,  and  he  talked  freely,  volubly 
even,  and  made  clear  the  motive  that  had  led  him  into  a 
systematic  course  of  crime.  In  doing  this  he  betrayed  not  the 
slightest  suggestion  of  remorse;  on  the  contrary,  his  great 
regret  was  that  he  had  accomplished  so  little  in  the  way  of 
taking  human  life.  He  expressed  sorrow,  however,  for  the 
pain  he  had  inflicted  on  those  individuals  that  he  had  failed  to 
kill  outright,  and  for  the  grief  of  the  relatives  of  those  he  had 
slain.  His  criminal  career  had  begun  shortly  after  he  had 
come  into  possession  of  the  great  work  of  Malthus  on  “Over¬ 
population,”  which  had  ever  since  been  his  bosom  companion. 
“It  showed  me  the  true  work  of  my  life,”  he  declared.  “It 
came  upon  me  like  the  flash  of  a  flint  in  the  night,  or  as  the 
light  that  dazzled  Saul  of  Tarsus  on  the  road  to  Damascus.” 
He  styled  himself,  “The  apostle  of  a  great  principle;  the 
martyr  of  a  practical  philanthropy.”  Vulgar  minds,  who 
judge  everything  from  their  own  narrow,  everyday  standpoint, 
might  denounce  him  and  even  call  him  mad,  but,  he  assured 
the  court,  he  was  confident  that  the  better  intellects  of 
France,  Germany,  and  England  would  do  ample  justice  to  his 
memory.  To  all  appearances  he  spoke  candidly,  and  appeared 
to  consider  himself  as  a  benefactor  to  mankind. 


INSTANCE  OF  HOMICIDAL  IMPULSE  39 


As  to  his  mysterious  meeting  with  the  murdered  Grimm 
and  the  Tyrolesian  huckster  upon  the  dyke  at  Wittenberg, 
Croc  offered  no  explanation ;  yet,  in  view  of  his  previous  crimes 
and  the  diabolical  cunning  of  his  character,  the  plot  he  had 
devised  becomes  apparent.  The  huckster,  who  dressed  in  an 
extravagant  fashion,  and  was,  no  doubt,  of  an  imaginative 
turn  of  mind,  was  made  to  believe  that  a  person  of  his  distin¬ 
guished  appearance  ran  great  risks  in  traveling  about  the 
country  unarmed,  and  easily  induced  to  purchase  a  pistol. 
Pie  had  probably  made  this  person  believe  that  Grimm  was 
disposed  to  turn  traitor  to  some  scheme  they  had  concocted  on 
the  dyke,  and  arranged  to  have  him  play  the  spy  the  follow¬ 
ing  day,  with  the  expectation  that  the  thll  huckster  would  be 
convicted  and  executed  for  the  murder ;  thus  cutting  down  the 
hated  “over-population”  by  two,  instead  of  one,  as  was  his 
usual  custom. 

The  first  victim  to  the  cause  of  reducing  the  world’s  popu¬ 
lation  was  an  old  soldier  named  Armande  Geraud,  who  had  lost 
a  leg  at  Austerlitz  and  received  a  pension  from  Marshal  Soult. 
Geraud  had  announced  his  intention  of  marrying,  and  this 
had  decided  Croc  to  take  his  life.  While  Geraud  and  he  sat 
smoking  together  in  a  little  garden,  the  deed  had  been  com¬ 
mitted  with  a  bludgeon.  The  assassin  declared  that  at  the 
time  of  the  killing  it  had  not  occurred  to  him  to  impersonate 
his  victim  and  draw  the  pension  from  Marshal  Soult;  but  turn¬ 
ing  the  matter  over  in  his  mind  and  considering  it  in  the  light 
of  a  principle  of  action  which  he  had  determined  to  make  the 
guiding  rule  of  his  life,  he  came,  as  he  said,  “to  see  the  finger 
of  Providence  pointing  for  his  good  and  that  of  mankind.” 
The  idea  seemed  to  him  to  be  an  inspiration,  and  he  had 
subsequently  passed  as  Armande  Geraud,  and  had  received  his 
victim’s  pension  from  the  agent  of  Marshal  Soult.  From  this 
hour  he  had  striven  to  rectify  the  evils  of  over-population  so 
clearly  shown  in  the  “divine  book”  which  he  carried  at  his 
breast,  the  beneficent  production  of  the  great  Englishman, 
Mai  thus.  Once,  indeed,  he  had  suffered  a  qualm  of  doubt  for 
several  days,  and  passed  many  sleepless  nights  in  consequence 
of  some  friend  having  sent  him  the  roe  of  a  herring  wrapped 


40 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


in  a  multiplication  table ;  but  he  soon  came  to  perceive  that 
the  divinely  inspired  author  of  “Over-population”  must, 
eventually,  in  the  course  of  long  ages,  be  right,  and  all  the 
produce  of  the  sea,  as  well  as  of  the  land,  be  eaten  up  by  the 
over-populated  world.  Henceforth  he  went  on  his  way  rejoic¬ 
ing,  ever  mindful  of  his  high  mission,  ever  coming  in  with  his 
population-check  upon  all  good  opportunities. 

He  confessed  that  in  the  prosecution  of  his  peculiar  system 
of  philanthropy  he  had  directly  killed  twenty-seven  indi¬ 
viduals,  caused  the  execution  of  five  others  who  had  been 
found  guilty  of  his  murders,  and  wounded  fourteen  more, 
most  of  whom,  much  to  his  regret,  had  recovered.  He  had 
discharged  a  high  duty,  he  maintained.  He  had  chosen  the 
name  of  “Gottlieb  Rinhalter” — “Love  God,  The  Checker,”  to 
express  a  due  sense  of  his  high  calling.  Some  of  Croc’s  ideas 
about  men  and  society  are  worthy  of  mention.  For  Fieschi, 
and  other  regicides,  he  expressed  supreme  contempt.  They 
were,  he  said,  nothing  better  than  ignorant  egotists.  He 
agreed  with  Malthus  that  vice  and  misery  had  been  the  great¬ 
est  benefactors  of  the  race ;  things  which  he  thought  had  done 
more  than  any  other  agency  in  reducing  the  population. 
Next  to  those,  he  regarded  Bonaparte  and  the  Duke  of 
Wellington  as  the  most  distinguished  philanthropists  of  his¬ 
tory,  because  of  their  reducing  the  population,  even  though 
not  upon  any  philosophic  principle.  Of  Mr.  Pitt,  he  spoke  in 
terms  of  highest  praise.  He  was  a  great  man,  a  prime  mover 
in  the  prevention  of  over-population.  Next  to  the  book  of 
Malthus,  Croc  regarded  the  German  work  entitled  “Documen¬ 
tary  Exposition  of  Remarkable  Crimes,”  by  Anselm  Von 
Feurbach,  Knight,  State  Councillor,  and  President  of  the 
Court  of  Appeals.  Only  authors  of  the  keenest  intellect,  he 
thought,  could  do  justice  to  the  memory  of  great  criminals. 
The  mass  of  mankind  do  not  regard  them  from  a  philosophic 
standpoint.  Posterity  would,  he  thought,  recognize  them  as 
philanthropists.  Simon  Stigler,  a  murderer  of  the  century 
preceding,  he  mentioned  in  terms  of  respect,  although  dis¬ 
criminating  against  what  he  conceived  to  have  been  certain 
weak  points  in  his  character.  Margaret  Swanziger,  an  expert 


INSTANCE  OF  HOMICIDAL  IMPULSE  41 

I 

poisoner  through  the  use  of  oxalic  acid  mixed  with  negus  and 
sugar  of  lead,  he  particularly  admired.  With  the  story  of 
Solomon  Scales,  the  wife  murderer,  he  was  thoroughly 
familiar.  Jacob  Solly,  who  had  a  habit  of  killing  soldiers 
while  standing  solitary  on  sentry,  and  Thomas  Pig  of  Plert- 
fordshire,  who  had  with  his  own  hands  killed  nine  infants,  he 
considered  ideal  heroes.  He  was  familiar  with  the  story  of 
Nadir  Slat,  who  had  erected  pyramids  and  columns  out 
of  human  skulls,  and  he  dwelt  with  peculiar  interest  on  the 
principle  involved  in  the  eighty  thousand  executions  of  Henry 
VIII. 

These  men,  he  said,  were  all  great  benefactors  of  the 
human  race.  They  were  superb  apostles  of  the  Malthusian 
doctrine,  and  they  furnished  the  only  effective  checks  and 
remedies  that  could  be  found.  Regulation  and  colonization 
were  mere  temporizing.  There  was  no  remedy  for  it  but  to 
kill  people. 

The  day  before  he  was  to  be  executed  Croc  asked  that  a 
poor  woman,  a  dressmaker  who  had  befriended  him,  might  be 
permitted  to  visit  him  in  one  of  the  apartments  of  the  jail, 
and  that  he  might  be  granted  a  short  conversation  in  private. 
Strange  to  say,  with  the  same  inattentive  ignorance  which  the 
police  had  manifested  upon  the  occasion  of  his  search  made 
after  the  murder  of  Grimm,  the  permission  was  given. 
Shortly  after  her  departure  he  became  restless,  but  this  cir¬ 
cumstance  was  attributed  to  the  natural  nervousness  which 
might  be  expected  in  a  man  awaiting  execution.  In  the  even¬ 
ing  the  dressmaker  returned,  and  once  more  the  two  were 
left  alone  together.  During  the  night  he  expressed  the  wish 
that  the  Chief  Magistrate  of  Wittenberg  and  the  Head  Pro¬ 
fessor  of  the  University  should  breakfast  with  him  in  the 
morning.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  the  proffer  was 
declined. 

While  Croc  was  being  bound  to  the  fatal  chair,  his  eyes 
nervously  wandered  about,  until  they  rested  upon  the  dress¬ 
maker,  whom  he  particularly  enjoined  to  be  present  in  order 
that  she  might  witness  his  death.  With  a  complacent  smile  he 
placed  his  right  leg  across  his  left  knee  until  it  pointed,  as 


42 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


nearly  as  he  was  able  to  aim,  at  the  heart  of  the  dressmaker. 
Just  as  the  executioner  arrived  behind  him  with  the  two- 
edged  sword,  Croc  closed  his  left  eye  and,  giving  a  short  jerk 
to  his  right  elbow,  fell  backward.  An  explosion  followed. 
Fortunately  for  herself,  the  dressmaker  was  uninjured.  The 
pistol  leg  had  been  overcharged,  and  had  burst  and  blown  the 
body  of  the  wretch  into  fragments. 

An  explanation  is  almost  unnecessary.  Croc  had  induced 
the  dressmaker  to  bring  him  half  a  pound  of  gunpowder,  that 
he  might  be  enabled  to  cheat  the  executioner  by  committing 
suicide.  He  had  placed  the  entire  contents  of  the  package  in 
the  pistol  barrel.  Failing  in  his  scheme  to  take  the  lives  of 
the  two  prominent  men,  he  had  determined  to  murder  his 
misguided  benefactress,  but  succeeded  only  in  terminating  his 
own  depraved  existence. 

The  story  of  Raoul  Croc  has  been  given  in  considerable  de¬ 
tail  because  it  furnishes  an  admirable  instance  of  the  operation 
of  the  disposition,  or  in  this  case,  more  properly,  passion,  for 
taking  human  life.  It  does  not  appear  that  the  murderer  was 
of  a  cruel  or  revengeful  disposition,  and  all  his  manifold 
crimes  must  be  chargeable  to  the  homicidal  impulse,  which 
had  gained  absolute  mastery  over  all  the  better  promptings  of 
his  heart.  For  a  long  time  he  successfully  resisted  the 
temptation,  but  the  work  of  Malthus  presented  a  line  of  argu¬ 
ment  that  quieted,  or  rather  subdued,  whatever  of  real  con¬ 
science  he  possessed,  and  enabled  him,  in  a  manner  at  least,  to 
justify  his  dark  and  cruel  deeds  unto  himself.  Judging  from 
the  boastful  manner  of  his  confession  and  his  death,  coupled 
with  the  incessant  study  of  his  “bosom  companion,”  he 
probably  believed  the  theories  of  Malthus  and  decided  to  carry 
them  much  farther  than  was  contemplated  by  the  clerical 
author.  At  the  same  time,  the  disposition  to  k'ill  was  the  real 
incentive  that  drew,  or  drove,  him  into  a  course  of  crime 
almost  unequaled  in  modern  times. 


CHAPTER  IV 

MOTIVES  FOR  HOMICIDE  — REVENGE  — NUMEROUS 

CASES 

It  is  not  the  author’s  intention  to  present  anything  like  a 
complete  history  of  homicide ;  such  a  work  would  far  transcend 
the  limits  he  has  set  himself,  and  besides,  would  hardly  prove 
of  interest  to  the  general  reader.  His  object  is,  rather,  to 
show  the  extent  to  which  it  has  prevailed  in  different  ages, 
how  it  has  been  regarded  and  treated  by  the  law  and  by 
society,  the  efforts  that  have  been  made  to  repress  it,  the 
various  motives  that  lead  to  its  commission,  with  appropriate 
illustrations  of  each,  and  the  modes  of  punishment  adopted 
by  various  nations  in  different  ages. 

Logically  considered,  such  a  book  ought  to  begin  with  the 
earliest  historical  times  and  descend  chronologically  to  the 
present  day.  Such  an  arrangement  would,  however,  render  it 
impossible  to  treat  separately  and  distinctly  the  different  pas¬ 
sions  and  impulses  that  have  led  to  the  commission  of  the 
great  homicides  of  the  world,  and  would  render  the  work  less 
interesting  and  instructive.  In  departing  from  the  usual 
mode  and  treating  the  subject  from  the  standpoint  of  motives 
rather  than  time,  nothing  is  really  lost,  since,  unlike  the  arts, 
sciences,  letters,  religion  and  civilization  itself,  even,  homicide 
has  been  essentially  the  same  in  all  ages,  and  is  bound  to  con¬ 
tinue  so,  for  the  reason  that  once  modified  it  ceases  to  be 
homicide. 

To  set  forth  in  a  categorical  way  the  different  motives  of 
the  human  heart,  which,  given  free  rein,  drive  one  on  to  take 
the  life  of  his  fellow,  is  an  extremely  difficult  task,  for  the 
reason  that  natural  impulses  are  manifold  and  that  many  of 
them,  commendable  in  themselves,  become  perverted  and 
form  combinations  so  various  that  their  enumeration  is  impos- 

43 


44 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


sible.  It  must  be  remembered  that  good  and  evil  are  relative 
terms,  and  depend  for  their  meaning  upon  the  education  and 
conscience  of  the  individual  who  employs  them.  Probably 
no  two  philosophers  ever  exactly  agreed  as  to  the  ultimate 
causes  of  crime,  and  the  author  does  not  essay  to  answer 
questions  that  have  been  mooted  for  all  time.  Besides,  few 
homicides  have  resulted  from  the  operation  of  one  single  and 
unaided  passion  or  motive.  There  is  usually  a  leading  cause, 
but  it  is  often  mingled,  frequently  obscured,  by  others. 
Thus,  in  the  mind  of  a  murderer,  many  inducements,  some 
of  them  perhaps  excusable,  are  often  strangely  jumbled 
together  and  mixed  up  with  dark  and  evil  passions. 

Of  the  passions  and  motives  that  most  frequently  call  into 
activity  the  homicidal  impulse  and  lead  to  murder,  the  follow¬ 
ing  may  safely  be  enumerated:  Revenge,  Cupidity,  Jealousy, 
Envy,  Anger,  Lust,  Drunkenness  and  Fear.  To  these  might 
be  added  Patriotism  and  the  Obligation  of  a  Secret  Oath. 
Brief  as  is  this  list,  it  has  amply  sufficed  to  bring  to  an 
untimely  end  a  large  proportion  of  all  born  into  the  world, 
and  to  reflect  suffering,  shame  and  death  upon  an  almost 
infinite  number  of  others.  As  has  been  already  suggested, 
none  of  these  motives  are  new ;  all  are  as  old  as  the  existence 
of  sinful  man.  Anger  and  envy  caused  Cain  to  slay  his 
brother;  lust  induced  David  to  put  Uriah  in  the  front  rank  of 
battle;  revenge  led  Samson  to  drag  down  the  pillars  that 
crushed  and  buried  his  enemies  and  himself,  while  motives  of 
mingled  patriotism  and  fear  induced  the  beautiful  Judith  to 
decapitate  the  wicked  and  drunken  Holof ernes. 

Of  all  the  passions  that  control  the  actions  of  men,  the 
love  of  self  is  clearly  entitled  to  the  foremost  place.  Of  the 
criminal  motives  we  have  enumerated,  all  have  their  founda¬ 
tion  in  selfishness.  The  love  of  self  is  deeply  implanted  in 
every  human  breast,  and  egotism  may  be  justly  termed  the 
ruling  passion  of  life.  So  far  from  being  wrong,  self-love, 
within  reasonable  limits,  is  clearly  right.  It  was  divinely 
implanted  in  the  original  human  heart  for  the  very  evident 
purpose  of  furnishing  man  with  a  motive  for  living  in  the  face 
of  sorrow  and  pain,  and  for  subduing  the  earth  in  spite  of 


MOTIVES  FOR  H  O  M I C I D  E— R  E  V  E  N  G  E  45 


droughts,  floods,  tornadoes  and  earthquakes.  The  love  of 
self,  in  the  true  sense  of  the  term,  leads  men  upward  to  true 
nobility  and  causes  them  to  eventually  sacrifice  self  for  the 
benefit  of  others.  To  explain  this  seeming  paradox:  a  selfish 
man,  in  the  conventional  and  mean  sense  of  the  word,  passes 
a  beggar  with  a  frown  and  possibly  a  muttered  curse,  while 
one  endowed  with  a  true  and  genuine  self-love  pauses  and 
divides  his  few  coins  with  the  mendicant.  The  first  refuses 
his  contribution  because  to  part  with  his  money  would  cause 
him  pain,  while  the  other  drops  a  coin,  often  from  pure  phi¬ 
lanthropy,  it  is  true,  but  more  frequently  for  the  reason  that 
the  memory  of  the  wan  face  and  hungry  eyes  of  the  supplicant 
would  cost  him  greater  suffering  than  the  lack  of  the  trifle  he 
contributes. 

The  motive  for  murder  that  seems  to  contain  the  least 
element  of  selfishness,  is  revenge.  Primarily,  a  real  or  sup¬ 
posed  personal  injury  lies  at  its  foundation,  yet  the  remote 
cause,  with  all  others  that  intervene,  is  absorbed  by  the 
whirlwind  of  jjassion  that  results — as  the  serpent  of  Aaron 
swallowed  up  those  of  the  Egyptian  enchanters.  In  almost 
all  other  moving  causes  of  crime  the  perpetrator  expects  to 
reap  some  kind  of  substantial  benefit,  as  wealth  or  the  gratifi¬ 
cation  of  his  passions,  but  in  revenge  he  only  expects  to  profit 
through  a  fiendish  delight  in  the  death  or  discomfiture  of  his 
enemy.  The  desire  for  revenge,  accompanied  as  it  always  is 
with  indignation  and  anger,  often  overrides  conscience  and  all 
notions  of  common  prudence,  and  furnishes  some  sort  of 
palliation  for  resulting  crime.  On  the  other  hand,  revenge  is 
one  of  the  most  brutish  of  all  human  impulses,  and  no  just 
reason  can  be  urged  for  its  indulgence.  As  a  motive  of  homi¬ 
cide,  revenge  is  exceedingly  fruitful,  and,  even  where  it  is  not 
the  leading  impulse,  enters  into  combinations  with  others, 
and  can  be  detected  in  a  large  proportion  of  the  most  atrocious 
instances  of  homicide. 

Revenge  has  furnished  the  theme  for  almost  no  end  of 
poems,  dramas  and  novels,  and  much  of  decided  value  to  the 
investigator  of  homicide  can  be  gleaned  from  the  works  of 
master  minds  whose  writings,  even  when  not  strictly  founded 


46 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


on  fact,  are  truthful,  in  that  they  epitomize  the  criminal 
experiences  of  generations  of  wrong-doers.  Among  the 
essayists  and  criminal  writers  of  the  first  half  of  the  present 
century,  few  have  equaled  and  none  have  surpassed  Thomas 
De  Quincey.  This  is  especially  true  of  his  analysis  of  human 
nature.  Although  he  led  a  most  uneventful  life,  and  was  of 
a  retiring  disposition,  his  great  learning  and  logical  mind 
enabled  him  to  look  into  the  very  depths  of  the  human  heart 
and  describe  the  processes  that  lead  one  into  courses  of 
crime.  The  details  of  homicide  appear  to  have  had  for  him  a 
weird  sort  of  fascination.  No  writer  of  modern  times  portrays 
murder  in  more  vivid,  yet  truthful,  colors. 

The  history  of  Maximilian  Wyndham,  in  his  wonderful 
book,  “The  Avenger,”  is  an  admirable  instance  of  the  opera¬ 
tion  of  revenge,  long  sustained,  deliberately  planned  and 
artistically  executed — for  there  is  an  art  in  crime,  ghastly  and 
repulsive,  but  none  the  less  art,  as  De  Quincey  himself  has 
amply  demonstrated.  The  vengeance  Wyndham  wreaked, 
after  long  years  of  waiting,  upon  those  who  had  cruelly 
wronged  his  family,  suggests  Byron’s  bitter  lines: 

‘  *  Time  at  last  makes  all  things  even ; 

If  we  but  await  the  hour, 

There  never  yet  was  human  power 
That  could  evade,  if  unforgiven, 

The  patient  watch  and  vigil  long 
Of  him  who  treasures  up  a  wrong.  ’  ’ 

The  narrative  of  the  remarkable  and  wholesale  vengeance 
of  Maximilian  Wyndham  is  supposed  to  be  told  by  a  professor 
in  a  minor  university  in  northeastern  Germany,  some  twenty 
years  after  the  occurrence  of  the  last  events  in  the  series  of 
fearful  tragedies.  In  1815,  not  long  after  the  final  defeat  of 
the  French  at  Waterloo,  this  professor  received  a  letter  from 
a  Russian  nobleman  asking  him  to  receive  into  his  family  as  a 
student,  a  young  gentleman  who  stood  high  in  the  favor  of 
the  Czar,  and  who  was  possessed  of  a  large  fortune.  This 
young  man,  Maximilian  Wyndham  by  name,  was  the  son  of  a 
distinguished  officer,  by  birth  an  Italian,  but  claiming  descent 
from  a  noble  English  family.  As  a  result  of  the  revolution  in 


1 


MOTIVES  FOR  H  O  M  I C  I  D  E— R  E  V  E  N  G  E  47 


France,  the  elder  Wyndham’s  property,  which  was  of  vast 
extent,  passed  under  French  domination,  and  he  entered  the 
military  service  of  that  country.  Earlier  in  life  he  had  served 
with  considerable  distinction  in  the  armies  of  several  princes, 
and  while  holding  a  brigadier-general’s  commission  in  the 
Austrian  service,  had  met  and  married  a  beautiful  and  highly 
accomplished  Jewish  lady,  who  traced  her  descent  to  the 
Maccabees  and  to  the  royal  houses  of  Judea. 

Wyndham,  thanks  to  his  wealth,  secured  the  place  of  a 
commissary  to  the  French  forces  in  Italy.  Through  this  posi¬ 
tion  he  succeeded  in  collecting  several  large  claims  due  him 
from  some  of  the  Italian  States,  remitting  the  money  to  Eng¬ 
land  for  investment.  This  circumstance,  becoming  known  to 
his  brother  officers,  raised  a  violent  prejudice  against  him, 
since  it  indicated  his  intention  to  retire,  a  little  later,  to  that 
country  which  the  French  so  cordially  hated.  In  the  mean¬ 
time,  his  beautiful  wife  had  attracted  the  attention  of  several 
French  officers,  who  had  annoyed  and  positively  insulted  her 
with  their  attentions.  Owing  to  his  position,  Wyndham  was 
unable  to  properly  resent  and  punish  the  indecent  proposals 
of  his  superiors,  who  had  now  become  his  deadly  enemies. 
Still,  his  eye  and  bearing  was  sufficient  warning  to  hold  them 
in  check,  which  still  further  inflamed  their  hatred.  Soon  the 
army  was  ordered  to  Germany.  W}rndham  well  knew  that 
under  the  outrageous  laws  and  usages  that  still  prevailed  in 
portions  of  that  country,  his  enemies  would  be  able  to  perse¬ 
cute  him  in  a  manner  that  would  not  be  tolerated,  either  in 
France  or  Italy.  Accordingly,  he  attempted  to  resign  his  posi¬ 
tion  as  commissary,  but  was  unable  to  obtain  the  favor,  and 
was  obliged  to  depart  with  the  army.  He  left  his  wife,  his  son 
Maximilian  and  his  two  daughters  in  Venice.  Although  the 
boy  was  but  twelve  years  of  age,  his  father,  thanks  to  former 
services,  had  secured  him  an  appointment  in  the  imperial 
service  of  Austria,  with  a  high  commission  for  one  of  his 
extreme  youth.  Upon  his  father’s  departure  from  Italy, 
Maximilian  had  necessarily  been  recalled  to  remain  with  his 
mother  and  sisters. 

In  a  university  town  of  Germany,  Wyndham  was  caught  in 


48 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


a  snare  that  his  enemies  had  artfully  laid  for  him.  This  was 
some  breach  of  discipline,  which,  though  really  trivial,  was 
fearfully  punished.  He  was  thrown  into  prison,  where  he 
was  most  inhumanly  treated  by  the  local  jailer.  The  charges 
were  so  magnified  that  it  appeared  verj^  possible  the  penalty 
might  be  death.  In  despair  he  begged,  as  a  favor,  that  his 
enemies  would  send  for  his  wife  and  children.  This  was 
exactly  what  they  most  desired,  and  the  request  was  readily 
granted.  Arriving,  they  found  themselves  classed  as  Jews, 
then  generally  despised  and  hated  in  Germany,  and  were 
treated  in  the  most  arbitrary  manner.  They  found  the  object 
of  their  solicitude  almost  at  the  point  of  death,  so  inhumanly 
had  he  been  treated.  Soon  after  their  arrival  he  expired. 
The  opportunity  of  the  French  officers  had  now  come,  and 
they  took  a  fearful  revenge  upon  the  woman  who  had  spurned 
their  dishonorable  advances. 

Driven  to  desperation,  Mrs.  Wyndham,  publicly  and  in 
court,  denounced  the  corrupt  magistracy,  taxing  some  of  them 
with  having  made  her  the  vilest  proposals.  She  told  them 
that  they  had  been  responsible  for  her  husband’s  death  and 
charged  them  with  being  in  collusion  with  the  French  mili¬ 
tary  oppressors  of  the  district.  For  this  she  was  arrested, 
charged  with  some  form  of  petty  treason,  and  sentenced  to  be 
flogged  upon  her  bare  back  through  the  streets  at  noon. 
This  punishment  was  to  be  inflicted  on  two  separate  days, 
professedly  to  relieve  her  torture,  but  really  to  add  to  her 
degradation.  In  three  days  this  dreadful  sentence  was  to  be 
carried  into  effect. 

Maximilian  spent  the  time  endeavoring  to  secure  his 
mother’s  pardon,  offering  to  undergo  the  punishment  ten  times 
in  her  stead,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  As  a  result  of  the  fearful 
scourging  and  the  shame  that  accompanied  it,  the  unfortunate 
lady  soon  died.  On  the  heels  of  this  Maximilian  was  ordered 
to  repair  to  Vienna.  This  had  been  done  through  a  friendly 
French  officer  who  reported  the  affair  to  an  Austrian  officer. 
Unfortunately,  the  order  did  not  include  his  two  sisters,  whom 
he  was  obliged  to  leave  behind  him  in  charge  of  a  faithful 
servant.  It  was  seven  months  before  he  received  a  leave  of 


4 


V 


MOTIVES  FOR  HOMICIDE— REVENGE  49 

absence  permitting1  him  to  return.  He  found  his  two  sisters 
and  the  servant  all  dead.  The  eldest  of  the  two  girls  had 
attracted  the  eye  of  the  infamous  jailer  whose  inhuman  treat¬ 
ment  had  deprived  her  father  of  his  life,  and  she  had  died  in 
this  villain’s  custody — what  more  horrible  can  be  imagined! — 
while  grief  had  cause  her  younger  sister  to  soon  follow  her  to 
a  better  world. 

The  day  his  mother  was  flogged  through  the  streets,  Maxi¬ 
milian,  as  appears  from  a  paper  written  by  him,  but  not 
opened  until  after  his  death,  had  sworn  a  fearful  vengeance 
against  all  who  had  a  hand  in  her  degrading  punishment. 
These  vows  he  repeated  after  learning  of  the  sad  fate  of  his 
sisters,  and  consecrated  his  life  to  revenge. 

This  was  the  young  man  who  became  an  inmate  of  the 
German  professor’s  home,  and  it  was  in  this  university  town 
that  all  the  members  of  his  family  had  perished  the  most 
miserable  of  deaths.  The  reader  need  not  be  informed  that 
his  real  mission  was  revenge,  rather  than  the  pursuit  of 
knowledge.  In  the  ten  years  that  had  elapsed  since  the  death 
of  his  parents  and  sisters,  he  had  seen  much  of  military  serv¬ 
ice,  and  had  risen  to  considerable  distinction.  He  had  some 
time  before  transferred  his  services  to  Russia.  Arriving  at 
the  university,  young  Wyndham  was  warmly  welcomed;  he 
had  paid  liberally  in  advance  for  all  favors  he  was  to  receive, 
and  wealth  and  generosity  open  almost  all  earthly  doors. 
Besides,  he  was  strikingly  handsome,  and  rose  at  once  to  a 
high  position  in  the  society  of  the  quaint  old  town. 

Maximilian  well  knew  every  one  who  had  had  aught  to  do 
with  the  persecution  of  his  mother,  and  he  had  marked  them 
all,  including  their  families,  for  death.  About  two  months 
after  his  arrival  the  first  blow  was  struck;  a  man  named 
Weishaupt,  his  wife  and  his  two  maiden  sisters,  together  with 
a  domestic,  were  found  brutally  murdered.  This  occurrence 
threw  the  town  into  a  perfect  fever  of  excitement.  All  sorts 
of  investigations  were  made,  which  developed  nothing,  except 
that  robbery  had  not  been  the  motive  for  the  crime.  Three 
weeks  later  another  blow  was  struck,  an  entire  family  being 
murdered  in  their  own  house. 


/ 


5° 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


Young  Wyndham  now  suggested  the  organization  of  a 
band  of  students  to  act  as  a  street  patrol  to  protect  the  town 
at  night,  and  he  became  an  active  member  himself.  But  still 
the  murders  went  on,  the  authorities  being  unable  to  obtain 
the  smallest  clue  to  the  identity  of  the  perpetrators.  As  a 
matter  of  fact  they  were  the  work  of  a  band  that  the  young 
student  had  organized  for  that  very  purpose.  In  the  midst 
of  horrid  wars,  Maximilian  had  been  obliged  to  postpone  his 
deeply-cherished  revenge,  but  at  length  he  developed  a  plan 
and  found  the  means  of  carrying  it  into  effect.  He  says  in  the 
statement  already  referred  to:  “A  voice  ascended  tome  day 
and  night,  from  the  graves  of  my  father  and  mother,  calling 
for  vengeance  before  it  should  be  too  late.  I  took  my  meas¬ 
ures  thus:  Many  Jews  were  present1  at  Waterloo.  From 
amongst  these,  all  irritated  against  Napoleon  for  the  expecta¬ 
tions  he  had  raised,  only  to  disappoint  by  his  great  assembly 
of  Jews  at  Paris,  I  selected  eight,  whom  I  knew  familiarly  as 
men  hardened  by  military  experience  against  the  movements 
of  pity.  With  these  as  my  beagles,  I  hunted  for  some  time  in 
your  forest  before  opening  my  regular  campaign ;  and  I  am 
surprised  that  you  did  not  hear  of  the  death  which  met  the 
executioner — him  I  mean  who  dared  lift  his  hand  against  my 
mother.  This  man  I  met  by  accident  in  the  forest;  and  I 
slew  him.  I  talked  with  the  wretch,  as  a  stranger  at  first, 
upon  the  memorable  case  of  the  Jewish  lady.  Had  he 
repented,  had  he  expressed  compunction,  I  might  have 
relented.  But  far  otherwise;  the  dog,  not  dreaming  to  whom 
he  spoke,  exulted;  he — but  why  repeat  the  villain’s  words?  I 
cut  him  to  pieces.  Next,  I  did  this:  My  agents  I  caused  to 
matriculate  separately  at  the  college.  They  assumed  the  col¬ 
lege  dress.  And  now  mark  the  solution  of  that  mystery 
which  caused  such  perplexity.  Simply  as  students  we  all  had 
an  unsuspected  admission  at  any  house.  Just  then  there  was 
a  common  practice,  as  you  will  remember,  amongst  the 
younger  students,  of  going  out  a-masking — that  is,  of  entering 
houses  in  the  academic  dress,  and  with  the  face  masked.  This 
practice  subsisted  even  during  the  most  intense  alarm  from  the 
murderers;  for  the  dress  of  the  students  was  supposed  to 


MOTIVES  FOR  HOMICIDE-REVENGE  51 


bring  protection  along  with  it.  But,  even  after  suspicion  had 
connected  itself  with  this  dress,  it  was  sufficient  that  I  should 
appear  unmasked  at  the  head  of  the  maskers  to  insure  them  a 
friendly  reception.  Hence  the  facility  with  which  death  was 
inflicted,  and  that  unaccountable  absence  of  alarms  at  the 
time  the  crimes  were  committed.  I  took  hold  of  my  victim, 
and  he  looked  at  me  with  smiling  security.  Our  weapons 
were  hid  under  our  academic  robes;  and  even  when  we 
drew  them  out,  and  at  the  moment  of  applying  them  to  the 
throat,  they  still  supposed  our  gestures  to  be  part  of  the 
pantomime  we  were  performing.  Did  I  relish  this  abuse  of 
personal  confidence  in  myself?  No — I  loathed  it,  and  I 
grieved  for  its  necessity ;  but  my  mother,  a  phantom  not  seen 
with  bodily  eyes,  but’ ever  present  to  my  mind,  continually 
ascended  before  me;  and  still  I  shouted  aloud  to  my 
astounded  victim,  ‘This  comes  from  the  Jewess!  Hound  of 
hounds!  Do  you  remember  the  Jewess  whom  you  dishonored, 
and  the  oaths  which  you  broke  in  order  that  you  might  dis¬ 
honor  her,  and  the  righteous  law  which  you  violated,  and  the 
cry  of  anguish  from  her  son  which  you  scoffed  at?’  Who  I 
was,  what  I  avenged,  and  whom,  I  made  every  man  aware, 
and  every  woman,  before  I  punished  them.  The  details  of 
the  cases  I  need  not  repeat.  One  or  two  I  was  obliged,  at  the 
beginning,  to  commit  to  my  Jews.  The  suspicion  was  thus, 
from  the  first,  turned  aside  by  the  notoriet3r  of  my  presence 
elsewhere;  but  I  took  care  that  none  suffered  who  had  not 
either  been  upon  the  guilty  list  of  magistrates  who  condemned 
the  mother,  or  of  those  who  turned  away  with  mockery  from 
the  supplication  of  the  son.” 

The  jailer  received  the  worst  fate  of  all.  He  had  been 
made  a  police  officer  since  the  death  of  the  Wyndhams,  and 
disappeared  suddenly  during  the  summer  of  1816,  nor  could 
any  trace  of  him  be  found.  In  November  of  that  year,  the 
leaves  having  fallen  in  the  forest,  his  body  was  found  nailed 
to  a  tree,  which  bore  this  savage  inscription:  “T.  H.,  jailer  at 
- ;  crucified  July  1,  1816.”  Touching  this  matter,  Maxi¬ 
milian  wrote  as  follows:  “As  to  the  jailer,  he  was  met  by  a 
party  of  us.  Not  suspecting  that  any  of  us  could  be  connected 


52 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


with  the  family,  he  was  led  to  talk  of  the  most  hideous  details 
with  regard  to  my  poor  Berenice.  The  child  had  not,  as  had 
been  insinuated,  aided  her  own  degradation,  but  had  nobly 
sustained  the  dignity  of  her  sex  and  her  family.  Such 
advantages  as  the  monster  pretended  to  have  gained  over  her 
— sick,  desolate,  and  latterly  delirious — were,  by  his  own  con¬ 
fession,  not  obtained  without  violence.  This  was  too  much. 
Forty  thousand  lives,  had  he  possessed  them,  could  not  have 
gratified  my  thirst  for  revenge.  Yet,  had  be  but  shown 
courage,  he  should  have  died  the  death  of  a  soldier.  But  the 
wretch  showed  cowardice  the  most  abject,  and — but  you  know 
his  fate.  ” 

A  cloud,  which,  though  silver-lined,  threatened  to  obscure 
the  fiery  hate  of  the  young  officer  and  cause  him  to  abandon  his 
deep-laid  plan  for  revenge,  rose  athwart  his  path.  There  is 
an  old  proverb  to  the  effect  that  the  unexpected  generally 
happens.  Probably  no  one  could  have  convinced  Maximilian, 
in  advance  of  the  event,  that  he  was  destined  to  fall  in  love — 
yet  such  was  the  result  of  his  becoming  domiciled  at  the  uni¬ 
versity.  More  than  that,  he  fell  violently  in  love  with  the 
granddaughter  of  one  of  the  magistrates,  towards  whom  he 
entertained  the  deepest  animosity.  His  affection  was 
returned,  and  he  became  a  suitor  for  her  hand.  The  grand¬ 
father  violently  opposed  the  union,  but  the  young  man  per¬ 
sisted  in  his  suit.  After  some  months  the  old  gentleman 
suddenly  changed  his  ground,  and  evinced  willingness,  anxiety 
even,  that  the  couple  should  be  speedily  married,  a  proceed¬ 
ing  that  caused  no  end  of  speculation  among  the  worthy 
gossips  of  the  town.  In  the  meantime  the  couple  had  been 
secretly,  though  legally,  married,  of  which  occurrence  the 
grandfather  did  not  entertain  the  slightest  suspicion. 

And  now  a  condition  arose  that  fairly  wrung  the  heart  of 
the  Avenger.  Llis  wife’s  grandfather  had  been  marked  for 
slaughter.  Maximilian  attempted  to  defeat  this  end,  but  one 
of  the  band  of  assassins  to  whom  circumstances  had  given 
momentary  power,  and  whose  heart  was  bitter  against  the  old 
man,  insisted  that  the  programme  be  carried  out  to  its  legiti¬ 
mate  denouement — the  death  of  the  last  remaining  offender. 


MOTIVES  FOR  H  O  M  I C  I  D  E— R  E  V  E  N  G  E  53 


Wyndham  yielded,  but  stipulated  that  the  murder  should  be 
committed  at  a  time  when  the  young  lady  was  expected  to  be 
absent  on  a  visit.  Again  the  unexpected  happened;  some¬ 
thing  prevented  the  anticipated  visit,  and  she  descended  the 
stairs  just  in  time  to  see  her  husband  in  the  act  of  seizing  her 
grandfather.  The  result  was  absolutely  appalling;  the  old 
man  was  slain,  and  the  young  wife,  who  was  in  a  delicate 
condition,  died  as  a  result  of  the  fearful  shock.  Maximilian’s 
object  in  contracting  a  secret  marriage  was  to  humiliate  the 
grandfather.  Of  this  he  wrote:  “Let  me  add,  that  the  sole 
purpose  of  [my  clandestine  marriage  was  to  sting  her  grand¬ 
father’s  mind  with  the  belief  that  his  family  had  been  dis¬ 
honored,  even  as  he  had  dishonored  mine.  He  learned,  as  I 
took  care  he  should,  that  his  granddaughter  carried  about  with 
her  the  promises  of  a  mother,  and  did  not  know  that  she  had 
the  sanction  of  a  wife.  This  discovery  made  him,  in  one  day, 
become  eager  for  the  marriage  he  had  previously  opposed; 
and  this  discovery  also  embittered  the  misery  of  his  death.” 

Even  now  the  police  did  not  discover  the  perpetrators  of  the 
numerous  crimes.  The  secret  was  revealed  by  the  Avenger 
himself.  After  the  funeral  of  his  wife  he  entrusted  his 
friend,  the  professor,  with  two  sealed  documents;  one  his 
will,  the  other  his  dying  statement,  the  latter  of  which  was 
not  to  be  made  public  for  at  least  three  years.  This  done,  he 
died  from  the  effects  of  self-administered  poison. 

To  understand  something  of  the  mental  condition  of 
Wyndham  and  appreciate  the  provocation  that  urged  him  on 
to  his  deep  revenge,  even  at  the  expense  of  his  own  life  and 
that  of  one  to  whom  he  was  absolutely  devoted,  and  also  to 
show  that  hate  is  a  stronger  passion  than  love,  one  more  pas¬ 
sage  from  his  remarkable  confession  may  be  quoted.  It  refers 
to  his  mother’s  scourging  and  his  own  vow  of  vengeance: 
“The  day  came;  I  saw  my  mother  half  undressed  by  the 
base  officials;  I  heard  the  prison  gates  expand;  I  heard  the 
trumpets  of  the  magistracy  sound.  She  had  warned  me  what 
to  do;  I  had  warned  myself.  Would  I  sacrifice  a  retribution 
sacred  and  comprehensive  for  the  momentary  triumph  over  an 
individual?  If  not,  let  me  forbear  to  look  out  of  doors;  for  I 


54 


MITRDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


felt  that  in  the  self-same  moment  in  which  I  saw  the  dog  of  an 
executioner  raise  his  accursed  hand  against  my  mother  swifter 
than  lightning  would  my  dagger  search  his  heart.  When  I 
heard  the  roar  of  the  cruel  mob,  I  paused — endured — forbore. 
I  stole  out  by  by-lanes  of  the  city,  from  my  poor  exhausted 
sisters,  whom  I  left  sleeping  in  each  other’s  innocent  arms, 
into  the  forest.  There  I  listened  to  the  shouting  populace; 
there  even  I  fancied  I  could  trace  my  poor  mother’s  route  by 
the  course  of  the  triumphant  cries.  There,  even  then,  even 
then,  I  made — O,  silent  forest!  thou  heardst  me  when  I  made 
— a  vow  that  I  have  kept  too  faithfully.  Mother,  thou  art 
avenged;  sleep,  daughter  of  Jerusalem!  for  at  length  the 
oppressor  sleeps  with  thee.  And  thy  poor  son  has  paid,  in 
discharge  of  his  vow,  the  forfeit  of  his  own  happiness,  of  a 
paradise  opening  upon  earth,  of  a  heart  as  innocent  as  thine, 
and  a  face  as  fair.  ” 

In  this  narrative  the  homicidal  impulse  is  seemingly  pres¬ 
ent,  although  the  moving  cause  was  revenge.  To  a  certain 
extent,  also,  the  secret  and  solemn  oath  of  Wyndham  must  be 
reckoned  as  having  had  its  influence.  It  was  uttered  at  a 
moment  when  he  was  suffering  tortures  from  the  terrible 
indignities  to  which  his  mother  was  being  subjected,  and 
would  be  certain  to  make  upon  the  young  man  an  impression 
so  profound  as  to  be  quite  as  enduring  as  the  memory  of  the 
original  wrong.  Thus,  the  solemn  obligations  of  religion 
itself  were  made  to  fortify  the  decidedly  wicked  passion  of 
revenge. 

In  reading  this  wonderful  work  of  De  Quincey,  the  sym¬ 
pathy  of  many  readers  is  constantly  with  the  deeply  wronged, 
misguided  young  man.  This  does  not  indicate  any  sympathy 
with  homicide,  but  rather  a  deep  detestation  of  the  cruel  and 
unwarrantable  acts  of  those  who  were  made  to  suffer  in  turn. 
This  feeling  of  sympathy  is  a  form,  greatly  modified  it  is 
true,  but  still  a  manifestation  of  the  passion  we  term  revenge. 
The  outrageous  treatment  of  Maximilian’s  mother  arouses 
within  us  a  feeling  of  deep  indignation ;  in  a  certain  sense  we 
make  the  cause  of  the  young  man  our  own,  and  ardently  desire 
to  see  his  enemies  punished.  This  sympathy,  not  with  crime, 


MOTIVES  FOR  HOMICIDE— RE  YEN  GE  55 


but  with  retribution,  has  been  universally  recognized  by  the 
authors  of  all  ages,  from  Chaucer  to  Dickens,  who  have, 
almost  invariably,  provided  a  denouement  in  which  vice  and 
crime  meet  with  adequate  punishment.  If  it  were  possible  to 
carry  this  principle  into  actual  life,  crime  would  rapidly 
diminish.  As  it  is,  the  feeling  of  S}/mpathy  we  have  noted 
shows  a  general  detestation  of  crime  that  augurs  well  for  the 
future.  That  this  sentiment  has  developed  in  modern  times 
is  evident  from  a  close  scrutiny  of  the  literature  of  the  world. 
In  the  wonderful  poems  ascribed  to  blind  Homer,  tragic  acts 
abound,  but  they  are  treated  without  reference  to  their  moral 
aspects,  those  that  we  would  now  term  vicious  not  being  dis¬ 
tinguished  from  others  that  rightly  appeal  to  human  sym¬ 
pathy.  The  popular  fiction  of  two  or  three  centuries  ago  did 
not,  in  this  respect,  rise  to  the  high  standard  of  that  of  the 
present  day,  as  witness  the  works  of  Fielding  and  Smollett. 
Even  Shakespeare  did  not  always  punish  the  wrong-doings  of 
his  characters. 

From  the  professional  standpoint  of  the  author  one  point 
in  the  story  of  Maximilian  Wyndham  seems  worthy  of  special 
mention:  The  denouement  that  cost  the  Avenger  his  wife  and 
drove  him  to  confession  and  suicide,  might  well  have  been 
avoided  had  he  not  been  present  at  the  last  of  the  series  of 
murders.  In  working  out  the  plot  as  he  did,  De  Quincey 
showed  consummate  skill  and  an  intimate  acquaintance  with 
human  nature.  Those  who  have  spent  years  in  the  systematic 
study  of  crime  and  the  detection  and  conviction  of  criminals, 
well  understand  that  continued  immunity  from  arrest  renders 
law-breakers  careless,  often  reckless,  and,  through  a  sense  of 
fancied  security,  leads  them  to  commit  acts  and  a4opt  methods 
that  assure  their  ultimate  detection  and  punishmdfeit. 

One  of  the  most  noted  of  all  the  homicides  of  history  was 
the  killing  of  Francesco  Cenci,  a  wealthy  Roman  nobleman, 
by  the  contrivance  of  his  wife  and  children.  Although  this 
tragedy  occurred  at  the  close  of  the  sixteenth  century,  it  is 
exceedingly  difficult  to  write  an  account  of  it  that  can  be 
vouched  for  as  absolutely  reliable.  Shelley  made  it  the  sub¬ 
ject  of  a  very  powerful  play,  full  of  romantic  incidents,  and 


56 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


this  has  had  a  large  influence  in  forming  the  modern  theory 
of  the  murder. 

Francesco  Cenci  was  the  son  of  Christopher  Cenci,  born 
out  of  wedlock,  but  legitimatized  under  the  Roman  law  by 
the  subsequent  marriage  of  his  parents.  He  was  born  during 
the  pontificate  of  Clement  VI.  From  his  childhood  he  was 
brutal  and  vicious,  having,  when  but  eleven  years  old,  in 
company  with  his  tutor,  been  arrested  by  the  Roman  police 
for  assaulting  and  robbing  a  prelate,  to  extricate  him  from 
which  difficulty  his  father  was  obliged  to  pay  handsomely. 
As  he  grew  to  manhood,  his  passions,  never  curbed,  grew 
more  violent ;  hatred  and  lust  ruled  supreme  in  his  soul,  and 
he  hesitated  at  nothing  which  might  gratify  these  dominating 
influences.  He  was  twice  married,  three  children  being  the 
issue  of  the  first  union,  while  his  second  wife,  a  widow  named 
Lucretia,  brought  him  no  offspring.  He  was  cordially 
detested,  alike  by  his  children,  and  their  stepmother. 

Beatrice  Cenci,  his  only  daughter,  is  said  to  have  been  one 
of  the  handsomest  women  in  Italy;  indeed,  she  is  still  known 
as  the  “Beautiful  Parricide.”  Her  beauty  seems  to  have 
excited  unnatural  passions  in  the  breast  of  her  depraved 
father,  who  is  said  to  have  accomplished  her  ruin.  Besides 
this,  he  is  accused  of  having  hired  assassins  to  kill  his  two 
sons.  Beatrice  appealed  to  her  friends  and  likewise  to  the 
Pope,  Clement  VII.,  for  protection  and  redress,  but  failed  to 
receive  it.  Despairing  of  aid  and  constantly  persecuted  by 
her  most  unnatural  father,  she  seems  to  have  conspired  with 
her  stepmother  and  her  brother  Giacomo  to  put  him  to 
death.  One  account  makes  the  three  the  executors  of  their 
own  terrible  sentence  of  death.  Another  version  of  the 
tragedy  informs  us  that  the  conspirators  hired  two  assassins, 
one  of  whom  was  the  steward  of  Francesco  Cenci,  to  put  him 
to  death.  The  assassination  took  place  in  the  castle  upon  one 
of  his  Neapolitan  estates,  where  he  was  accustomed  to  spend  a 
portion  of  each  year.  The  method  adopted  was  at  once 
unique  and  horrible.  One  of  the  murderers  held  a  sharpened 
nail  above  one  of  the  eyes  of  the  nobleman  as  he  lay  sound 
asleep,  while  the  other  drove  it  into  his  brain  with  a  blow  from 


0 


MOTIVES  FOR  HOMICIDE-REVE 

a  hammer.  This  done,  the  body  was  thrown  from  a  window 
into  the  branches  of  a  tree,  the  intention  being  to  make  it 
appear  that  he  had  fallen  from  the  window  and  received  his 
death-wound  upon  one  of  the  many  sharp  points  with  which 
the  tree  abounded.  This  part  of  the  plot  miscarried ;  the  body 
fell  to  the  ground,  and  the  murderers  fled  for  their  lives.  A 
reward  being  placed  upon  their  heads  by  the  government  of 
Naples,  one  of  them  was  killed,  while  the  other,  being  cap¬ 
tured,  made  a  full  confession.  The  Cenci  family  were 
arrested,  and  Giacomo  and  Beatrice  were  put  to  the  torture. 
Giacomo  confessed,  but  Beatrice  persisted  in  her  innocence. 
They  were  all  convicted  and  executed  in  August,  1599. 

Historians  are  not  wanting,  however,  who  allege  that 
Beatrice  was  entirely  innocent  of  all  complicity  in  the  affair, 
but  was  the  victim  of  an  infernal  plot.  The  result  of  the 
labors  of  the  most  recent  investigator  of  this  dark  and  myste¬ 
rious  crime,  Bertolotti,  are  far  from  supporting  this  theory. 
Drawing  his  information  largely  from  original  documents,  he 
says  that  Beatrice,  at  the  time  she  murdered  her  father — for 
he  concluded  that  she  was  the  direct  cause  of  his  death — 
instead  of  being  only  sixteen  years  of  age,  as  has  long  been 
asserted,  was  really  twenty-one,  and  possessed  of  a  somewhat 
tarnished  reputation.  More  than  that,  he  asserts  that  she  was 
far  from  beautiful,  and  that  the  sweet  and  mournful  counte¬ 
nance  which  forms  one  of  the  chief  treasures  of  the  Barberina 
Palace  in  Rome,  copies  of  which  are  to  be  seen  all  over  the 
world,  is  not  the  portrait  of  Beatrice,  and,  moreover,  was  not 
even  painted  by  Guido,  to  whom  it  has  long  been  unhesi¬ 
tatingly  attributed. 

Fiction  generally  proves  more  powerful  than  history,  and, 
even  if  Bertolotti  is  right  in  his  conclusions,  the  character  of 
the  “Beautiful  Parricide,”  as  drawn  by  Shelley  and  other 
romantic  authors,  will  doubtless  continue  to  be  adopted  as 
correct.  Whatever  the  exact  facts  were,  it  is  evident  that  the 
morals  of  Italy  three  hundred  years  ago  were  exceedingly 
debased,  and  that  most  encouraging  advancement  has  been 
made  since  those  evil  times. 

An  instance  of  homicide  of  peculiar  atrocity,  from  the 


5§ 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


motive  of  revenge,  occurred  at  Hoddesden,  England,  early  in 
the  present  century.  The  perpetrator  of  the  outrageous  crimes 
— for  his  thirst  for  vengeance  was  not  satisfied  with  one  victim 
— was  Thomas  Simmons,  a  servant.  He  was  the  son  of  poor 
parents,  and  at  an  early  age  had  been  taken  into  the  employ¬ 
ment  of  a  Mr.  Boreham,  of  that  place.  He  remained  with  this 
gentleman  for  a  number  of  years,  but  at  the  age  of  nineteen 
was  discharged  on  account  of  his  brutal  disposition,  of  which 
he  had  given  a  number  of  exhibitions.  There  was  in  the 
house  a  servant  named  Elizabeth  Harris,  a  woman  many  years 
Simmons’  senior,  with  whom  he  appears  to  have  fallen  violently 
in  love.  He  persisted  in  paying  her  his  addresses  after  she, 
upon  the  advice  of  her  mistress,  had  declined  to  have  any¬ 
thing  further  to  say  to  him 

Upon  leaving  his  place,  the  villain  vowed  vengeance  upon 
both  mistress  and  maid,  and,  shortly  afterward,  on  the  20th  of 
October,  1807,  he  proceeded  to  carry  his  threats  into  execution. 
On  that  day  there  were  present  in  the  house  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Boreham,  their  four  daughters,  Elizabeth  Harris  and  a  Mrs. 
Hummerstone.  Shortly  after  nine  o’clock  in  the  evening,  the 
party  in  the  parlor  heard  a  loud  altercation  in  the  back  part  of 
the  house,  which  proceeded  from  Simmons  and  Elizabeth 
Harris,  the  latter  having  refused  him  admission.  The  villain 
attempted  to  stab  the  woman  by  plunging  a  knife  through  the 
lattice  window,  but  did  not  succeed  in  reaching  her.  Mrs. 
Hummerstone  having  in  the  meantime  opened  the  rear  door, 
the  murderous  wretch  rushed  in  and  stabbed  her  in  the  jugular 
vein,  causing  almost  instant  death. 

Instead  of  being  satisfied,  the  revengeful  rage  of  Simmons 
seems  only  to  have  been  stimulated  by  his  first  deed  of  blood. 
Rushing  into  the  parlor,  he  brandished  his  bloody  knife  and 
swore  that  he  would  have  the  lives  of  all  of  them.  His  next 
victim  was  Mrs.  Warner,  the  eldest  daughter  of  Mr.  Boreham. 
Before  she  could  rise  from  her  chair,  the  wretch  repeatedly 
stabbed  her  in  the  neck  and  breast,  causing  wounds  from 
which  she  almost  immediately  died.  The  other  daughters 
escaped  by  running  upstairs.  The  scoundrel  then  aimed  a 
fierce  blow  at  the  jugular  vein  of  Mrs.  Boreham,  but  only 


MOTIVES  FOR  H  O  M  I  C  I  D  E— R  E  V  E  N  G  E  59 


inflicted  a  severe  flesh  wound,  which  did  not  prove  mortal. 
After  this  he  made  a  most  desperate  and  determined  effort  to 
slay  the  servant,  towards  whom  he  seemed  to  bear  the  great¬ 
est  animosity,  but,  after  being  badly  wounded,  she  succeeded 
in  gaining  the  street  and  giving  the  alarm.  Several  people 
responded  to  her  affrighted  cries.  Some  of  them  turned  their 
attention  to  the  wounded,  while  the  others  began  a  search  for 
the  murderer,  who  was  thought  to  be  still  upon  the  premises. 
After  a  long  search  he  was  discovered  in  a  corn-crib  in  the 
farm-yard,  and  was  at  once  apprehended.  His  captors  bound 
him  so  tightly  to  prevent  all  chance  of  his  escaping  that  the 
thongs  stopped  the  circulation  of  his  blood.  He  was  found 
in  the  morning  in  an  almost  dying  condition,  but  was  revived 
by  restoratives. 

Mr.  Boreham  was  a  Quaker  of  such  a  pronounced  type  that 
he  declined  to  prosecute  the  inhuman  wretch  who  had  mur¬ 
dered  his  daughter,  Mrs.  Warner.  Simmons  was  tried  at  the 
Hertford  Assizes  on  March  4,  1808,  for  the  murder  of  Mrs. 
Hummerstone.  Not  only  were  the  foregoing  facts  proved 
against  him,  but  the  murderer  had  confessed  his  crime  to  the 
coroner,  declaring  that  it  had  been  his  intention  to  kill  Mrs. 
Boreham,  Mrs.  Warner  and  Elizabeth  Harris.  Thomas  Sim¬ 
mons  was  hanged  on  March  7,  1808,  and  died  without  mani¬ 
festing  the  slightest  indication  of  concern  or  repentance. 

In  this  case  the  motive  was  clearly  revenge.  At  the  same 
time,  the  homicidal  impulse  was  fully  developed.  There  was 
not  the  slightest  evidence  of  insanity,  and  we  can  hardly  con¬ 
ceive  of  a  mere  boy  of  nineteen  years  planning  and  deliber¬ 
ately  carrying  into  execution  a  wholesale  series  of  murders, 
unless  the  desire  to  kill  had  been  present  in  such  force  as  to 
overcome  all  considerations  of  humanity  and  prudence.  In 
Thomas  Simmons,  the  passion  to  kill  others  was  stronger  than 
the  love  of  his  own  life. 

The  pages  of  criminal  history  are  well  filled  with  similar 
cases.  What  we  term  “love” — the  highest  and  best  impulse 
of  the  human  heart — often  appears  to  turn  into  its  antithesis, 
as  sweet  wine  becomes  vinegar,  and  develops  into  the  most 
cruel  and  relentless  hatred,  accompanied  by  a  deep-seated 


\ 


6o 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


desire  for  revenge.  It  may  be  remarked  that  this  does  not 
occur  in  truly  humane  people,  however  grievous  their  wrongs. 
Simmons  was  of  a  brutal  disposition,  and  gave  free  swing  to 
low  passions.  In  the  author’s  experience  and  observation, 
crimes  of  this  class  are  always  perpetrated  by  people  pos¬ 
sessing  depraved  natures. 

Revenge  is  one  of  the  deepest-seated  of  all  human  passions. 
In  some  people  it  seldom  manifests  itself,  and  when  it  does, 
passes  away  with  the  momentary  cause  that  provoked  it.  In 
others,  and  perhaps  a  majority  of  mankind,  grievances,  real  or 
imaginary,  are  treasured  up,  and  the  thought  of  vengeance 
constantly  entertained.  As  a  rule,  however,  revenge  does 
not  ordinarily  take  the  form  of  murder.  To  deprive  one  of 
his  life  is,  indeed,  to  exact  the  greatest  possible  punishment ; 
but  the  revengeful  heart  desires  to  gloat  over  its  victim,  to 
note  his  sufferings  and  perhaps  taunt  and  mock  him.  When 
death  has  stepped  in,  this  is  unattainable.  Murders  from  the 
motive  of  revenge  are  very  frequently  to  be  ascribed  to  rage, 
which,  though  it  generally  subsides  after  a  “cooling  time” 
has  intervened,  is  often  revived  by  a  word,  a  look,  or  some 
trivial  circumstance,  and  becomes  more  uncontrollable  than 
ever. 

Yet  feelings  of  revenge  are  often  long  entertained,  and 
prove,  after  the  lapse  of  years,  the  moving  cause  of  homicide. 
One  of  the  most  striking  instances  of  this  kind  occurred  over 
a  hundred  years  ago,  in  England.  It  was  a  case  of  matricide, 
one  of  the  most  detestable  and  unnatural  crimes  of  which  the 
human  mind  can  conceive. 

The  details  in  this  case  are  very  meagre,  as  they  rightly 
should  be  in  so  revolting  a  crime.  William  Farmery,  a  young 
man  not  yet  of  age,  killed  his  mother  by  stabbing  her  in  the 
throat  with  a  knife.  He  was  at  once  apprehended,  and  made 
full  confession.  He  stated  that  his  mother  had  punished  him 
some  three  years  before,  and  that  he  had  then  formed  the  deter¬ 
mination  to  take  her  life.  On  the  occasion  of  the  murder  she 
had  reproved  him  for  some  trifling  matter,  upon  which  he  arose 
and  left  the  house.  Having  deliberately  sharpened  his  knife 
upon  a  whetstone,  he  re-entered  the  house  and  surprised  his 


MOTIVES  FOR  HOMICIDE-REVENGE  6 1 


mother  in  the  act  of  making  his  bed.  Unmindful  of  the  fact 
that  she  was  his  mother,  who  had  always  loved  and  cherished 
him,  and  was  at  that  moment  working  for  his  comfort,  he 
threw  her  down  and  took  her  life.  He  was  executed  August 
5,  1775,  and  manifested  neither  repentance  nor  concern. 

A  worse  instance  than  this  case  can  hardly  be  found  in  the 
annals  of  crime.  It  shows  an  utterly  depraved  heart,  bereft  of 
those  natural  impulses  that  control  even  dumb  brutes.  It 
likewise  discloses  a  disposition  to  slay,  for  the  motive  was  too 
trifling  to  have  induced  him  to  commit  such  a  heinous  offense 
without  the  murderous  impulse  being  present  in  his  heart. 
In  the  Latimer  case,  detailed  in  Chapter  VI.  of  this  volume,  a 
young  man  murdered  a  woman  whom  he  firmly  believed  to 
be  his  mother,  but  a  stronger  motive  was  present.  He  was  in 
financial  difficulty,  and  needed  ready  money  to  carry  on  his 
debauches.  By  killing  his  mother  he  expected  to  secure 
wealth.  In  the  present  instance,  the  motive  of  cupidity  did 
not  exist.  Young  Farmery  killed  his  mother  for  revenge  and 
to  gratify  the  homicidal  impulse,  which  evidently  possessed 
him. 

A  homicide  surrounded  with  unusual  circumstances,  though 
clearly  chargeable  to  the  motive  of  revenge,  occurred  in 
Chicago,  in  the  year  1869.  The  perpetrator  of  this  most 
brutal  and  unprovoked  crime  was  one  Daniel  Walsh,  the  vic¬ 
tim  being  a  very  handsome  girl  named  Rose  Weldon.  The 
facts  in  this  interesting  case,  as  given  here,  were  recently 
obtained  from  Mr.  Joseph  H.  Dixon,  who  at  the  time  of  the 
occurrence  was  chief  of  defectives  of  the  city  of  Chicago. 

Walsh  came  to  Chicago  from  Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  in  1861.  Soon 
after  he  went  south  to  St.  Louis,  and  in  1864  enlisted  in  the 
army.  He  was  in  the  battle  of  Wilson’s  Creek,  and  was  at 
the  side  of  General  Nathaniel  Lyon  when  the  latter  was  shot. 
At  the  close  of  the  war  Walsh  returned  to  Chicago,  and 
worked  as  a  hack-driver  and  later  as  driver  of  a  street-car.  It 
was  while  in  the  latter  employment  that  he  first  met  Rose 
Weldon,  whom  he  married  and  killed. 

Rose  was  well  known  for  her  beauty.  She  lived  on  the 
West  Side,  and  after  leaving  school  worked  in  a  millinery 


62 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


store  at  143  Lake  Street.  Her  people  were  respectable  and 
hard-working,  and  she  contributed  to  the  support  of  the 
family.  The  acquaintance  between  Walsh  and  the  young  girl 
soon  developed  to  an  intimacy.  Walsh  was  a  constant  caller, 
and  Rose  regarded  the  good-looking  young  man’s  attentions 
with  favor.  When  marriage  was  suggested,  however,  it  met 
with  family  opposition.  Walsh  was  unknown,  and  there  were 
suspicions  as  to  his  past.  Opposition  only  threw  a  dash  of 
romance  into  the  courting,  and  the  two  were  wedded  at  the 
Church  of  the  Holy  Family,  February  6,  1869.  After  the 
ceremony  the  couple  went  to  the  bride’s  home,  and  a  few 
hours  later  the  husband  had  deserted  her  without  giving  any 
cause. 

After  a  few  days  Rose  returned  to  her  work  at  the  mil¬ 
linery  store.  She  saw  nothing  of  her  husband,  but  learned 
through  the  Buffalo  police  that  he  had  deserted  a  wife  and 
child  in  that  place.  Thereupon  she  began  a  suit  for  divorce 
on  the  ground  of  desertion.  When  the  decree  was  granted, 
Walsh’s  employers  heard  of  the  matter,  and  he  was  dis¬ 
charged. 

Then  came  the  murder.  Walsh  believed  Rose  was  respon¬ 
sible  for  his  discharge,  and,  according  to  the  evidence  of 
the  trial,  threatened  revenge.  The  day  before  the  shooting 
he  bought  a  revolver.  The  next  day  he  left  his  boarding 
house  on  2  2d  Street,  and  went  to  the  millinery  establishment 
where  Rose  worked.  When  she  came  out  he  stepped  from  an 
adjacent  doorway.  She  started  to  run,  but  he  followed  and 
urged  her  to  listen  to  him,  as  he  wished  a  reconciliation.  As 
she  reached  the  door  of  her  father’s  house  he  drew  his 
revolver  and  shot  her  in  the  side.  As  the  girl  fell  her  brother 
Dick  rushed  from  the  house  and  grappled  with  Walsh.  He 
would  have  killed  him  if  the  latter  had  not  offered  to  kill 
himself.  Walsh  begged  for  the  revolver  which  had  been 
wrenched  from  him,  saying:  “Don’t  shoot  me,  Dick!  Give 
me  the  gun  and  I’ll  kill  myself.’’  But  when  he  had  gained  his 
feet  and  been  given  the  weapon  he  started  on  a  run.  He  was 
caught  by  a  policeman,  who  had  been  attracted  by  the  shoot¬ 
ing,  and  was  walked  by  the  latter  nearly  a  mile  to  the  nearest 


MOTIVES  FOR  H  O  M  I C  I  D  E— R  E  V  E  N  G  E  63 

station.  All  the  way  an  angry  mob  had  to  be  held  at  bay  by 
the  officer. 

For  ten  days  Rose  Weldon  lingered  between  life  and 
death.  During  all  this  time  her  afflicted  father  was  constantly 
by  her  side,  and  was  not  known  to  have  either  eaten  or  slept. 
He  survived  her  but  one  hour,  and  they  were  buried  together. 
Mrs.  Weldon  was  prostrated  with  grief,  and  died  of  a  broken 
heart  five  days  before  Walsh  was  taken  to  the  penitentiary. 

The  murderer  was  tried  in  November,  1869.  A  clear  case 
was  made  by  the  prosecution  and  no  defense  was  offered. 
Walsh  was  promptly  found  guilty  and  sentenced  to  be  hanged 
December  10,  1869. 

If  ever  a  man  should  have  expiated  his  crimes  upon  the 
scaffold,  that  man  was  Daniel  Walsh.  He  had  won  the  affec¬ 
tions  of  a  mere  school-girl,  married  her  while  he  had  a  lawful 
wife  living,  deserted  her  almost  immediately  after  the  mar¬ 
riage  ceremony,  and  deliberately  taken  her  life  because  she 
had  obtained  a  divorce  from  him.  The  wrong-doing  was  all 
his  own,  yet,  because  the  publicity  given  to  the  affair  had  cost 
him  his  situation,  he  was  seized  with  a  devilish  desire  for 
revenge  which  he  lost  no  time  in  satisfying.  Every  com¬ 
munity  abounds  with  sentimental  people  who  would  stand  by 
and  see  a  poor  woman  go  to  jail  for  stealing  a  loaf  of  bread  for 
her  starving  children,  and  then  exert  themselves  to  the  utmost 
to  save  from  the  justly-merited  fate  awarded  by  the  law  a  self- 
confessed  murderer.  Exactly  this  thing  happened  in  the 
present  case.  A  number  of  the  most  prominent  people  of 
Chicago  interested  themselves  in  the  cause  of  Walsh.  Peti¬ 
tions  asking  for  a  reprieve  were  circulated  and  freely  signed. 
The  Governor  refused  to  grant  it;  whereupon  the  man  who 
had  gone  to  the  State  Capitol  to  urge  executive  clemency  sent 
the  following  dispatch  to  Chicago.  “All  right;  I  will  return 
by  next  train.”  This  was  on  the  day  fixed  for  the  execution, 
and  was  taken  to  indicate  that  a  reprieve  had  been  granted. 
Extra  newspapers  announcing  a  reprieve  were  at  once  issued, 
and  Walsh  was  jubilant.  Hearing  of  this,  the  Governor  tele¬ 
graphed  a  reprieve  of  four  weeks.  The  efforts  in  behalf  of 
the  condemned  man  were  at  once  redoubled.  The  Governor 


6  4 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


was  besieged  with  petitions  and  delegations  of  sentimentalists, 
At  the  last  moment  the  sentence  was  changed  to  imprison¬ 
ment  for  life,  and  the  brutal  wife-murderer  escaped  the  fatal 
noose.  He  died  recently  in  the  penitentiary  at  Joliet,  where 
he  had  been  a  prisoner  for  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century. 


yyo 


CHAPTER  V 

CUPIDITY  — LACENAIRE— THE  “THREE  ITALIAN  S” 

Of  all  the  commandments  in  the  Decalogue,  “Thou  shalt 
not  steal,”  is  the  one,  probably,  most  frequently  violated,  and 
hence  occupies  a  position  of  foremost  importance.  From  the 
earliest  and  rudest  times  the  right  to  possess  and  control  prop¬ 
erty  has  been  earnestly  maintained.  In  the  laws  of  all  nations 
a  man  is  justified  in  defending  his  property,  even  to  the  taking 
of  human  life.  Indeed,  property  is  often  put  above  life. 
Shakespeare  makes  Shylock  say:  “You  do  take  my  life  when 
you  do  take  the  means  by  which  I  live.”  This  almost  uni¬ 
versal  desire  of  possessing,  or  cupidity,  lies  at  the  root  of  a 
long  category  of  crimes,  beginning  with  trifling  theft  and 
ending  with  murder.  And  yet,  the  desire  for  wealth,  when 
restricted  to  proper  limits  and  softened  and  controlled  by 
justice  and  humanity,  so  far  from  being  culpable,  is  to  be 
highly  commended,  for  without  it  civilization  would  be  an 
impossibility.  The  man  who  fashioned  the  first  rude  spear 
and  fishing-hook  considered  them  his  own  and  fought  as  desper¬ 
ately  for  their  possession  as  the  modern  banker  would  for  his 
well-filled  vaults.  This  deep-seated  feeling  or  instinct  has 
leveled  forests,  planted  vineyards,  multiplied  flocks  and  herds, 
builded  cities  and  ships,  discovered  new  continents — in  a  word, 
subdued  the  earth. 

It  appears  that  those  qualities  of  human  nature  from  which 
the  most  valuable  results  are  obtained  are  the  most  subject  to 
perversion  and  provide  the  most  numerous  instances  of  sin  and 
crime.  Acquisitiveness  furnishes  no  exception  to  this  rule, 
and  its  unchecked  career,  as  already  suggested,  is  almost  cer¬ 
tain  to  culminate  in  the  commission  of  crime.  To  reap  where 
we  have  not  sown  and  gather  where  we  have  not  strewn ;  to 

65 


66 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


obtain  more  of  this  world’s  goods  than  falls  as  the  just  portion 
of  our  own  labor,  presupposes  that  we  benefit  by  the  industry 
and  thrift  of  others.  From  what  is  termed  “shrewdness”  in 
driving  bargains  to  plain  and  simple  theft,  the  transition  is 
“as  easy  as  lying.”  Although  a  crime  separate  and  distinct 
in  itself,  larceny  can  seldom  be  accomplished  without  involv¬ 
ing  the  perpetrator  in  other  and  frequently  more  heinous 
offenses.  Of  the  multitude  of  cases  of  homicide  in  which  the 
author  has  been  employed,  by  far  the  great  majority — nearly 
all  of  them,  in  fact — have  had  their  origin  in  motives  of 
cupidity.  Footpads  assault  and  kill  a  man ;  horse-thieves  shoot 
down  the  pursuing  owner;  burglars  chloroform  to  death  the 
sleeping  inmates  of  the  house  they  design  to  plunder,  or 
deliberately  slay  them  if  they  chance  to  become  aroused; 
coiners  and  “moonshiners”  shoot  the  meddling  officers  of  the 
law.  In  all  of  these  cases,  and  in  many  others  of  a  similar 
character,  the  motive  is  unlawful  gain,  and  the  more  awful 
crime  of  murder  is  merely  an  adjunct  to  the  lesser  one  of 
theft.  While  cupidity  lies  at  the  root  of  this  class  of  crimes,  it 
is  often  mingled  with  other  motives.  Since  the  days  of 
Duval  and  Robin  Hood,  highwaymen  have  often  chosen  their 
victims  with  reference  to  the  satisfaction  of  some  ancient 
grudge ;  house-breakers  frequently  select  the  residence  of  an 
officer  who  has  arrested  them,  or  a  judge  who  has  pronounced 
upon  them  the  sentence  of  the  law.  Even  the  homicidal 
impulse  is  sometimes  called  into  play,  and  people  put  to  death 
when  their  lives  might  have  been  spared  without  diminishing  the 
amount  of  booty  or  imperiling  the  safety  of  the  “operators.” 

These  facts,  well  understood  by  all  who  have  had  any 
experience  with  criminals,  or  who  possess  even  a  slight 
acquaintance  with  their  methods,  demonstrate  the  awful  risks 
incurred  by  one  who  enters  upon  the  slightest  course  of  wrong¬ 
doing,  such  as  petty  pilfering.  While  murder  frequently 
results  from  sudden  impulses,  and  does  not  always  presuppose 
a  long  course  of  lesser  crimes,  it  is,  in  the  observation  of  the 
author,  which  is  abundantly  sustained  by  the  criminal  annals 
of  the  world,  generally  the  result  of  a  series  of  evil  acts, 
gradually  increasing  in  enormity  until  they  culminate  in  the 


THE  “THREE  ITALIANS” 


6  7 


taking  of  human  life.  Without  assuming  the  role  of  a  moral¬ 
ist,  the  writer  would  emphasize  the  fact  that  bad  always  leads 
to  worse,  and  that  the  most  hardened  wretch  who  ever  paid 
the  death-penalty  on  the  scaffold  was  once  an  innocent,  prat¬ 
tling  child. 

The  instances  of  homicide  as  resulting  from  cupidity  fairly 
punctuate  with  dark  and  forbidding  blots  the  pages  of  history. 
From  the  earliest  times  human  life  has  been  cheaply  held. 
For  ages  bloody  wars  and  private  ventures  in  the  domain  of 
homicide  retarded  the  world’s  development.  The  actors  in 
the  awful  tragedies  knew  nothing  of  the  theories  of  Malthus, 
but  they  none  the  less  successfully  retarded  the  growth  of  the 
world’s  population,  and  its  civilization  and  enlightenment. 
Celebrated  cases  illustrating  this  motive  of  homicide  are  so 
numerous  that  only  a  small  proportion  of  them  can  be  given, 
but  those  presented  will  be  chosen  with  a  view  of  illustrating 
its  various  phases,  and  at  the  same  time  showing  something 
of  the  different  modes  adopted  by  criminals  to  carry  into 
execution  their  murderous  plans  and  plots. 

Man  is  a  social  animal,  and  longs  for  the  companionship  of 
his  fellows.  Nor  is  this  disposition  confined  to  those  who  lead 
proper  lives  and  consort  with  proper  people.  The  worst  of 
men  yearn  for  fellowship,  and  are  really  unhappy  when 
deprived  of  it. 

As  good  men  form  intimate  friendships  and  pursue  laudable 
ends  in  company,  so  the  most  depraved  congregate  together 
for  the  purpose  of  having  some  one  to  confide  in,  with  whom 
past  successes  can  be  discussed  and  gloated  over,  and  future  ex¬ 
ploits  planned ;  and  likewise  that  they  may  the  better  carry  their 
perfected  schemes  into  execution.  That  some  benefits  accrue 
to  scoundrels  from  this  association,  is  undeniable,  yet  it  gener¬ 
ally  happens  that,  in  the  long  run,  it  leads  to  their  detection. 
There  is  some  force  in  the  old  phrase,  ‘‘honor  among  thieves,” 
but  it  falls  far  short  of  being  universal.  A  thorough  criminal, 
confronted  with  evidences  of  his  guilt,  will  usually  incriminate 
his  accomplices,  if  by  so  doing  he  can  save  his  own  neck  from 
the  halter.  Indeed,  where  he  does  not  adopt  this  course,  it  is 
safe  to  say  that  he  is  guided  by  policy,  not  “honor.” 


68 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


In  the  year  1854  there  lived  in  No.  271  in  the  Passage  dn 
Cheval,  Rouge  St.  Martin,  in  the  city  of  Paris,  an  impudent 
rascal  named  Chardon.  He  had,  according  to  the  records  of 
the  police,  served  a  term  in  the  prison  at  Poissy,  from  which 
reformatory  institution  he  had  but  recently  been  discharged. 
He  had  been  confined  there  for  larceny,  and,  as  is  the 
almost  universal  practice  of  such  characters,  at  once  resumed 
his  criminal  career.  During  his  incarceration,  as  is  common 
with  rogues,  he  seems  to  have  perfected  a  new  scheme,  for  he 
proceeded  to  represent  himself  as  a  member  of  a  society 
known  as  the  “Charity  of  St.  Cecilia.”  In  this  guise,  or, 
more  properly,  disguise,  he  went  about  the  city  selling  devo¬ 
tional  articles,  such  as  rosaries,  images,  etc.,  made  of  cut 
glass,  for  which  he  was,  on  the  plea  of  charity,  enabled  to 
obtain  extravagant  prices.  His  marked  success  so  increased 
his  self-importance  and  assurance  that  he  had  the  audacity  to 
petition  Marie  Amelie  for  a  subscription  to  assist  him  in  estab¬ 
lishing  an  almshouse.  More  than  this,  so  successful  was  his 
imposture,  and  so  persuasive  his  representations,  that  he  suc¬ 
ceeded  in  securing  from  the  queen  a  contribution  of  ten  thou¬ 
sand  francs  and  a  promise  of  further  assistance.  Although 
Chardon  was  not  one  of  the  gregarious  sort  of  thieves,  but 
usually  kept  his  own  council,  he  had  not  been  able  to  avoid  all 
publicity  in  carrying  through  his  negotiations  with  the  Queen, 
and  rumors  of  his  newly  acquired  wealth  were  heard  among 
the  low  resorts,  where  he  was  a  familiar  figure. 

On  December  17th,  of  the  year  before  mentioned,  about 
midday,  two  men,  one  tall  and  strongly  built,  the  other  of 
small  stature  and  possessed  of  a  very  pale  face,  mounted  the 
stairs  of  the  wretched  building  where  the  impostor’s  apart¬ 
ments  were  located,  and  knocked  upon  the  door.  Receiving 
no  answer,  they  began  descending  to  the  street,  when,  on  the 
stairway,  they  met  the  rascal,  who  was  without  his  coat,  and 
had  apparently  been  out  on  some  trivial  errand.  Informed 
that  the  two  men  had  called  to  see  him  on  business,  Chardon 
invited  them  to  his  rooms.  No  sooner  had  the  door  closed 
behind  them  than  one  of  the  visitors  seized  the  astonished 
promoter  of  almshouses  by  the  throat,  while  his  companion 


THE  “THREE  ITALIANS” 


69 


produced  a  sharpened  three-cornered  file  and  stabbed  the 
struggling  wretch  repeatedly,  both  in  the  back  and  breast. 
The  impostor  fell  to  the  floor,  probably  dead,  but  to  make  cer¬ 
tain  and  at  the  same  time  secure  his  just  share  of  the  horrible 
“sport,”  the  shorter  of  the  two  assassins  seized  an  ax,  which 
happened  to  be  at  hand,  and  put  the  matter  beyond  all  ques¬ 
tion.  In  the  meantime — and  here  appears  an  advantage  of 
hunting  human  life,  after  the  manner  of  hounds,  in  pairs — in 
the  meantime,  the  taller  villain  entered  the  adjoining  apart¬ 
ment  where  the  mother  of  the  murdered  man  lay  sick  in  bed. 
Again  the  improvised  poniard  was  pressed  into  service,  and 
the  old  woman  was  fatally  stabbed. 

This  bloody  double  murder  accomplished,  the  two  scoun¬ 
drels  threw  a  mattress  over  the  dead  woman’s  body  and  pro¬ 
ceeded  to  ransack  the  drawers  of  an  old  bureau  that  stood 
behind  the  bed.  In  them  they  discovered  some  silver  dish 
covers,  a  large  fur-lined  cloak,  a  black  silk  cap  and  five  hun¬ 
dred  francs  in  gold.  Hastily  dividing  the  plunder,  the  two 
“friends  in  crime”  hurried  from  the  premises.  On  the 
staircase  they  met  two  persons  who  stopped  them  and  inquired 
after  Chardon.  The  taller  of  the  two  murderers  replied  that 
they  too  had  been  looking  for  him,  but  were  told  that  he  was 
absent  from  home.  He  then  donned  the  black  silk  cap,  while 
his  companion  enveloped  his  form  in  the  stolen  cloak,  and  the 
two  lost  no  time  in  repairing  to  a  notorious  thieves’  resort,  a 
cafe  in  the  Boulevard  du  Temple. 

It  may  appear  strange  that  such  minute  details  can  be 
given  of  this  most  sanguinary  occurrence,  but  it  must  be 
remembered  that  the  police  methods  of  Paris  were  in  that  day 
far  in  advance  of  those  pursued  in  the  provinces.  More  than 
that,  the  examining  magistrates  of  France,  even  at  the  present 
day,  possess  powers  which  they  freely,  not  to  say  brutally, 
exercise,  that  are  altogether  unknown  in  America  or  England. 
Instead  of  being  regarded  as  innocent  until  proven  guilty,  the 
accused  is  regarded  as  guilty  until  adjudged  innocent,  and  is 
examined  in  a  manner  calculated  to  make  him  incriminate 
himself.  Thanks  to  accurate  police  records  he  is  confronted 
with  his  past  life  and  so  badgered  that  he  often  breaks  down 


70 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


upon  his  preliminary  examination  and  confesses  everything. 
If  the  first  inquiry  does  not  prove  satisfactory,  he  is  remanded 
to  solitary  confinement,  often  for  many  days,  and  is  re-exam¬ 
ined  as  many  times  as  may  be  deemed  advisable.  In  this 
way,  long  after  the  occurrence,  many  of  the  gruesome  details 
of  this  case  were  obtained. 

With  the  stolen  money  and  the  proceeds  of  the  silver,  the 
two  thieves,  for  murder  with  them  was  but  a  necessary  inci¬ 
dent  of  theft,  proceeded  to  “make  merry.”  In  the  meantime 
they  combined  business  with  pleasure,  and  concocted  a  plan 
for  further  profitable  villainy.  They  were  “in  funds”  now 
and  proposed  to  do  something  more  “respectable”  than  vulgar 
house-breaking  and  ordinary  murder.  In  accordance  with 
their  determination,  they  procured,  the  very  next  day,  three 
small  rooms  on  an  upper  floor  of  a  large  apartment  house, 
or  “hotel,”  in  the  Rue  Monteguil,  where  they  represented 
themselves  as  law  students.  Their  plan  was  to  decoy 
bankers’  clerks  to  their  rooms,  under  one  pretense  or 
another,  where  they  were  to  be  murdered  and  robbed.  This 
was  to  be  done  at  a  time  of  day  when  the  clerks  were  usually 
entrusted  with  considerable  sums  of  money;  so  the  scheme 
promised  large  returns.  The  plans  of  the  wicked  seem  often 
to  prosper  in  this  world,  but  in  this  instance  a  temporary 
back-set  was  experienced.  Immediately  after  their  assump¬ 
tion  of  the  dignity  of  law  students,  the  shorter  of  the 
two  assassins  was  arrested  by  the  police  on  some  trifling 
charge. 

His  tall  accomplice  was  not  discouraged  by  this  quite 
ordinary  occurrence,  neither  does  he  seem  to  have  grieved 
deeply  for  his  imprisoned  “friend,”  for  he  lost  no  time  in 
securing  another  partner  in  the  yet  untried  business  of 
murdering  and  robbing  bank-clerks.  He  soon  found  a  man 
in  the  person  of  a  tailor,  named  Battou.  He  was  a  tailor 
in  a  little  more  than  name,  since  he  only  used  his  trade,  at 
which  he  seldom  worked,  as  a  cloak  for  his  criminal  practices. 
He  principally  devoted  his  time  to  thieving  and  serving  at  the 
Opera  Comique  as  a  supernumerary.  Battou  had  taken  but  a 
few  degrees  in  the  great  Parisian  university  of  crime,  and  the 


THE  “THREE  ITALIANS” 


7i 


proposal  to  enter  into  a  scheme  involving  robbery,  with  the 
awful  accompaniment  of  murder,  was  quite  appalling  to  him. 
This  must  not  be  ascribed  to  conscience — he  seemed  to  have 
had  little  enough  of  that — but  he  lacked  the  requisite  courage 
to  become  a  participant  in  anything  so  hazardous.  He  proved 
none  the  less  valuable,  however,  for  he  introduced  the  tall 
assassin  to  a  man  after  his  own  heart.  This  was  an  old  sol¬ 
dier,  named  Francois,  who  had  served  in  the  bloody  wars  in 
Northern  Africa,  and  who  announced  himself  as  quite  ready 
to  kill  a  man  for  a  consideration  of  twenty  francs.  The  two 
congenial  spirits  were  not  long  in  reaching  a  mutual  under¬ 
standing,  and  proceeded  to  at  once  put  into  execution  the  plan 
already  formulated. 

A  few  days  later,  on  December  twenty-ninth,  to  be  exact, 
the  tall  rascal  sallied  forth  to  start  into  motion  the  plot  that 
was  to  terminate  in  robbery  and  murder.  He  repaired  to  the 
banking  house  of  Messrs.  Mallet  &  Co.,  where  he  presented  a 
draft  upon  one  Mahossier.  He  requested  the  firm  to  have  his 
bill  presented  to  the  drawer  for  payment,  and  gave  his  resi¬ 
dence  as  being  in  the  Rue  Monteguil.  It  is  almost  unneces¬ 
sary  to  state  that  the  number  he  gave  corresponded  with  the 
one  where  the  murderous  den  of  the  two  assassins  was 
located.  The  trap  was  now  set,  and  the  bait  nicely  adjusted. 
No  detail  had  been  omitted,  even  the  name  of  the  imaginary 
debtor,  Mahossier,  having  been  carefully  chalked  upon  the 
door,  and  an  arrangement  made  with  the  concierge  of  the 
building,  by  which  any  one  inquiring  for  Mahossier  should  be 
directed  to  their  apartments. 

Everything  being  now  fully  arranged,  the  tall  man,  who, 
like  the  wooden-legged  Croc,  whose  career  has  been  narrated 
in  a  preceding  chapter,  was  of  a  literary  turn  of  mind,  com¬ 
placently  lighted  his  pipe  and  proceeded  to  read,  not  the 
startling  figures  of  Malthus,  but  a  chapter  from  an  almost 
equally  dangerous  author,  Rosseau.  The  old  African  cam¬ 
paigner,  who  was  educated  in  nothing  except  crime,  and 
lacked  the  cultivated  taste  of  his  companion  in  crime,  occupied 
himself  in  tugging  at  his  dirty  red  beard.  This  must  not  be 
attributed  to  nervousness — Francois  was  no  novice  in  the  art 


72 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


of  murder — but  rather  to  impatience  and  a  feeling  that  time, 
and  hence  money,  was  being  lost. 

At  length  the  sound  of  a  footstep  fell  upon  the  strained  hear¬ 
ing  of  the  listening  wretch,  and  he  nudged  his  companion  to 
arouse  him  from  the  entertaining  work  that  was  engrossing  his 
every  attention.  A  moment  later  came  the  knock  at  the  door 
for  which  the  two  plotters  had  been  waiting,  and  which  promised 
to  be  to  them  the  “open  sesame”  to  fortune.  It  was  about 
three  o’clock  in  the  afternoon  when  Francois  opened  the 
door,  and,  with  as  near  an  approach  to  a  smile  as  his  hard  face 
could  be  brought  to  assume,  admitted  a  young  man  who 
announced  that  he  had  called  to  collect  a  draft  from  M. 
Mahossier.  Whether  the  tall  man  doubted  the  nerve  or 
ability  of  his  accomplice  or  was  unwilling  to  permit  him  to  cut 
a  distinguished  figure  in  their  first  business  venture,  he  did 
not  wait  for  him  to  carry  out  his  allotted  part,  but  varied  the 
agreed  programme  by  producing  the  sharpened  file  with  which 
he  had  already  dispatched  at  least  two  victims,  and  ran  the 
point  of  the  improvised  but  none  the  less  deadly  weapon,  into 
the  breast  of  the  unsuspecting  boy.  In  spite  of  the  awful 
wound,  the  victim  was  able  to  utter  vigorous  screams. 
Instead  of  grasping  him  by  the  throat,  Francois  attempted  to 
close  his  mouth  with  his  hand.  With  a  blow  of  his  elbow 
the  struggling  clerk  sent  him  staggering  back  and  redoubled 
his  outcries.  Something  of  a  panic  now  possessed  the 
would-be  assassins,  who  made  ready  to  quit  the  apartment, 
but  not  until  they  had  relieved  the  wounded  messenger 
of  the  bag  which  contained  his  afternoon’s  collections, 
amounting  to  twenty-four  thousand  francs  in  gold  and  bank¬ 
notes. 

As  if  to  furnish  a  striking  illustration  of  the  real  nature  of 
the  “honor”  that  exists  among  thieves,  the  old  veteran  of 
Africa,  his  only  thought  being  for  himself,  ran  from  the 
room,  leaving  his  accomplice  locked  in.  Nothing  daunted, 
the  prisoner  threw  himself  upon  the  door  and  soon  succeeded 
in  forcing  the  imperfect  lock  and  making  good  his  escape. 
Left  to  himself,  the  wounded  boy  attempted  to  descend  the 
stairs,  but,  faint  from  the  loss  of  blood,  fell  forward  into  the 


THE  “THREE  ITALIANS” 


73 


arms  of  the  concierge,  who  had  been  attracted  by  the  outcry 
and  was  in  the  act  of  ascending  to  ascertain  its  cause. 

The  immediate  future  career  of  the  two  desperadoes  was 
never  made  clear,  but  it  was  ascertained  that  they  visited  Issy 
in  company,  doubtless  on  some  criminal  errand.  Some  time 
after  they  reappeared  in  Paris,  where,  after  committing  some 
petty  thefts,  they  seem  to  have  parted  company. 

Law-breakers  cannot  forever  avoid  detection  and  arrest, 
and  Francois  soon  found  himself  within  the  strong  state  prison 
at  Poissy,  but  not  for  the  crime  committed  in  the  Rue 
Monteguil,  with  which  the  police  had  not  connected  him. 
Shortly  after  the  *  ‘retirement”  of  the  old  soldier  to  a  place 
where  he  received  no  half-pay,  the  tall  assassin  was  arrested  at 
Eeaure,  where  he  had  made  an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  secure 
money  by  representing  himself  as  a  clerk  of  a  noted  Parisian 
house,  giving  the  name  of  Jacob  Levi. 

In  the  meantime,  the  police  had  not  been  idle,  but  their 
most  assiduous  efforts  to  identify  and  locate  the  murderers  of 
the  Chardons  in  the  Cheval  Rouge  had  been  ineffectual.  Not 
long  after  the  incarceration  of  Francois  at  Poissy,  a  report 
reached  the  police  that  the  convict  had  revealed  the  name  of 
the  murderer,  and  that,  according  to  his  statement,  the 
assassin  was  a  tall  man  named  Lacenaire,  who  was  well  known 
to  the  police  authorities  of  Paris.  The  latter  was  located  with¬ 
out  difficulty,  and  placed  under  arrest. 

Upon  being  informed  of  the  treachery  of  his  “friend,”  he 
flew  into  a  veritable  transport  of  rage,  swore  that  he  would 
have  revenge  in  kind,  and  offered  to  make  a  full  confession. 
Closely  questioned  by  the  examining  magistrate,  the  details  of 
the  two  awful  crimes  were  laid  bare,  and  the  short  pale-faced 
man  who  had  been  his  accomplice  in  the  Chardon  murder, 
and  whose  name  was  Aveil,  was  apprehended.  The  three 
prisoners  were  speedily  tried  for  their  terrible  crimes. 

When  the  prison  doors  closed  upon  Lacenaire,  he  evidently 
realized  that  his  infamous  course  was  almost  run.  Bent  upon 
enjoying  to  the  utmost  all  that  could  be  obtained  from  his  few 
remaining  days  of  life,  he  proceeded  to  pose  as  a  philosopher 
and  poet,  writing  verses  and  quoting  from  famous  authors. 


74 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


In  fact,  he  had  already  attained  considerable  notoriety  as  a 
writer  of  treasonable  matters,  and  while  he  was  in  confine¬ 
ment  three  men  were  tried  in  Paris  for  publishing  a  volume  of 
insurrectionary  songs,  a  number  of  which  were  from  the  pen 
of  the  polished  murderer.  One  day  a  favorite  cat  that  he  was 
allowed  to  keep  in  his  cell  offended  him  in  some  way,  and,  in 
a  sudden  burst  of  rage,  he  killed  it.  This  done,  he  sat  down 
and  proceeded,  for  the  entertainment  of  the  guards  and  the 
gratification  of  his  own  inordinate  vanity,  to  analyze  the 
impulses  and  emotions  that  had  led  to  the  act.  “Strange,” 
said  this  curious  mixture  of  sentimentalist  and  monster,  by 
way  of  conclusion,  “that  I  regard  the  agony  of  that  animal 
with  a  compassion  I  never  felt  for  one  of  my  human  victims. 
The  sight  of  a  corpse,  or  a  death  agony,  produced  no  effect 
upon  me.  I  kill  a  man  just  as  I  drink  a  glass  of  water.” 

In  one  respect,  however,  this  strange  monstrosity  was 
entirely  consistent.  He  had  confessed  his  crime,  knowing  well 
that  the  capital  penalty  would  attach  to  himself  in  consequence 
of  his  confession,  and  he  was  willing  to  surrender  his  own 
life  in  order  that  he  might  obtain  revenge  upon  those  who  had 
betrayed  him.  During  the  whole  period  of  his  confinement  he 
expressed,  and  doubtless  felt,  an  earnest  longing  for  the  day 
of  his  trial  to  arrive,  in  order  that  he  might  have  the  satisfac¬ 
tion  of  witnessing  the  conviction  and  listening  to  the  sentence 
pronounced  upon  his  accomplice.  His  chief  recreation  while 
in  his  cell  was  in  occupying  himself  as  an  author. 

A  young  advocate  who  had  volunteered  to  defend  him  died 
suddenly  while  he  was  in  prison.  The  last  words  of  the  law¬ 
yer  were,  “Alas,  I  shall  reach  there  before  him.”  Lacenaire, 
on  being  told  of  this,  remarked,  with  a  real  or  assumed  phi¬ 
losophy,  “Eh,  Bien,  sooner  or  later  it  comes  to  that.  No 
doubt  he  suffered  much  before  he  went.  I  shall  suffer  less;  I 
know  that  well  enough.  ’  ’ 

Although  Lacenaire  was  primarily  induced  to  commit  mur¬ 
der  through  motives  of  cupidity,  there  was  in  his  depraved 
heart  a  strong  impulse  of  revenge.  His  confessing  bloody 
deeds  that  might  have  been  proved  with  considerable  diffi¬ 
culty,  in  order  to  condemn  to  the  guillotine  the  man  who  had 


THE  “THREE  ITALIANS” 


75 


betrayed  him,  clearly  demonstrated  this.  He  chided  the 
law’s  delay,  and,  unmindful,  or  rather  indifferent,  that  each 
day  forced  him  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  horrid  scaffold  with 
its  gleaming-,  death-dealing  knife,  eagerly  counted  the  passing 
days  that  brought  him  nearer  and  nearer  to  his  deeply  cher¬ 
ished  revenge.  The  time  came  at  last,  and  on  the  12th  day  of 
November  the  sensational  trial  began. 

Lacenaire  wished  to  offer  no  defense,  but  an  advocate  was 
appointed  for  him  by  the  Government.  It  is  a  somewhat 
singular  fact  that  the  more  desperate  the  criminal  on  trial, 
and  the  more  heartrending  and  gruesome  the  evidence  to  be 
offered,  the  more  women — women  of  education  and  refine¬ 
ment,  too — will  crowd  into  a  court-room.  The  crimes  of  the 
assassin  had  stirred  Paris  to  its  foundations;  besides,  all  felt 
an  interest  in  the  monster  who  was  willingly,  gladly,  going  to 
the  guillotine  if  only  he  could  take  his  enemies  with  him,  and 
a  large  number  of  ladies  were  present  at  the  opening  of  the 
court.  Lacenaire  seemed  to  appreciate  this,  and  to  regard  it 
as  in  the  nature  of  an  ovation.  He  was  dressed  with  care  and 
taste,  and  met  each  eager,  curious  look  with  a  smile  of  mingled 
complacency  and  importance.  Plis  manners  appeared  so 
polished  and  his  face  so  intelligent  and  refined,  that  the  spec¬ 
tators  could  hardly  believe  him  the  monster  he  had  been 
depicted.  Francois  and  Aveil,  who  seemed  vulgar  brutes  in 
comparison  with  him,  sat  sullen  and  despairing.  Whenever 
the  evidence  told  strongly  against  his  accomplices,  he  looked 
at  them  with  an  expression  of  fiendish  delight;  at  other  times 
he  read  a  book,'  glanced  around  the  crowded  court-room  or 
conversed  smilingly  with  his  counsel. 

It  was  not  found  difficult  to  show  the  complicity  of  Francois 
and  Aveil.  One  Frechard,  an  ex-convict  of  Poissy,  testified 
that  during  his  confinement  he  had  once  saved  a  turnkey  from 
death  at  the  hands  of  Aveil.  After  his  discharge  from  the 
prison  he  had  met  Aveil  in  Paris,  when  the  latter  had  told 
him  of  the  plan  to  murder  and  rob  the  Chardons  and  invited 
him  to  join  the  “enterprise.”  Battou,  the  pretended  tailor, 
was  also  produced  in  court ;  he  tremblingly  admitted  his  guilty 
knowledge  of  the  plot  to  murder  bank-messengers,  and  also 


;6 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


that  he  had  introduced  Francois  to  Lacenaire,  as  the  best  man 
in  Paris  for  the  proposed  scheme. 

As  to  the  murders  in  the  Cheval  Rouge,  medical  experts 
testified  that  the  assassin  must  have  wounded  himself  from  the 
violence  of  the  blows,  from  the  circumstance  that  the  handle 
of  the  file  was  covered  with  blood.  This  evidence  would 
appear  to  us  as  rather  far-fetched,  yet  Lacenaire  readily 
admitted  it,  and,  in  reply  to  a  denial  from  Aveil,  exhibited  a 
scar  upon  the  palm  of  his  right  hand,  and  with  a  contemptuous 
smile,  calmly  resumed  the  reading  of  his  book. 

In  giving  his  testimony,  Lacenaire  thus  explained  his 
reasons  for  denouncing  Aveil  and  Francois:  “Vengeance  is 
my  only  motive.  Life  I  do  not  want.  For  a  long  time  I 
have  lived  only  in  the  past.  For  a  long  time,  every  night, 
death  has  been  sitting  on  my  bed.  Those  who  think  I  would 
receive  a  commutation  are  mistaken.  A  pardon  you  cannot 
give  me,  no,  I  shall  not  ask  it  of  you,  it  would  be  valueless  to 
me.”  When,  calm  and  smiling,  he  reseated  himself,  many 
young  lawyers  crowded  about  him  to  congratulate  him  on  his 
brilliant  debut.  “Ma  foi, ’’  he  said;  “life  is  a  combat.  I 
have  played  well,  but  I  have  been  beaten.  Society  did 
not  want  me  when  I  was  good  for  something.  Whose  fault 
was  that?” 

In  his  turn,  Francois  said  to  the  jury:  “You  have  heard 
that  orator.”  Then  turning  to  Lacenaire,  who  was  regard¬ 
ing  him  with  a  sardonic  smile,  he  shouted:  “Yes,  miserable 
scoundrel!  You,  who  would  kill  every  human  being;  it  is  you 
who  drive  me  to  the  scaffold.  Hear,  Lacenaire ;  I  go  to  death ! 
But  I  shall  go  without  fear.  I  shall  die  innocent.  But  you, 
you  will  turn  coward  at  the  moment  of  death.” 

“Better  sooner  than  later,”  was  Lacenaire ’s  remark  when 
he  was  awakened  for  the  last  time  on  earth,  “to-morrow,  if  it 
is  to  be  to-morrow;  now  if  it  is  to  be  now.”  Then  opening 
the  manuscript  volume  of  his  memoirs  which  he  had  been 
preparing,  he  quietly  wrote  a  final  paragraph  and  committed  it 
to  his  guard  with  the  request  that  it  should  be  given  out  at 
once  for  publication.  This  paragraph,  written  as  it  was  by  a 
man  standing  on  the  brink  of  eternity,  whose  eyes  were 


i 


THE  “THREE  ITALIANS” 


77 


already  raised  toward  the  fatal  knife  whose  descent  was  to 
send  him  before  his  final  judge,  is  worth  repeating  here. 

“Adieu,”  he  wrote,  ‘to  those  who  have  loved  me,  and  to 
those  who  have  cursed  me  The  latter  are  right.  And  you 
who  read  these  memoirs,  whose  every  page  is  steeped  in 
blood,  though  you  will  not  read  them  till  the  executioner  has 
wiped  my  blood  from  his  steel  triangle,  give  me  a  place  in 
your  memory.  Adieu!” 

The  three  miscreants  were  executed  together.  Contrary 
to  the  prediction  of  Francois,  Lacenaire  died  without  seeming 
fear,  as  he  had  lived  without  apparent  conscience.  In  his 
case,  the  “machine”  did  not  work  properly,  the  grooves  having 
become  swollen  from  the  dampness.  Several  times  the  horrid 
knife  was  released  from  its  fastenings,  but  refused  to  fall  far 
enough  to  accomplish  its  sanguinary  task,  and  some  minutes 
passed  before  his  head  finally  dropped  into  the  basket.  What 
the  mental  sufferings  of  the  wretch  were  during  those  dread¬ 
ful  moments,  none  can  even  conjecture,  but  the  people  of 
Paris  fairly  gloated  over  the  incident,  and  announced  them¬ 
selves  as  satisfied  with  his  punishment  Sanson,  who  executed 
Lacenaire,  denies  this  incident  in  his  “Memoirs  of  the  San- 
sons,  ”  but  the  official  report  is  against  him.  No  man  likes  to 
admit  that  he  has  bungled  in  his  work. 

To  the  average  reader  the  character  of  Lacenaire  is  a 
strange  mingling  of  contradictions.  To  conceive  a  man  at 
once  author  and  assassin,  scholar  and  scoundrel,  poet  and 
murderer,  is  extremely  difficult;  yet  such  was  the  wretch, 
some  of  whose  glaring  crimes  we  have  here  outlined.  The 
sympathy  which  he  gave  to  cats  he  withheld  from  his  own 
species.  The  coldness  of  his  nature,  which  enabled  him  to 
perpetrate  the  basest  of  crimes  without  compunction,  turned 
to  fire  when  his  own  personal  wrongs  were  to  be  avenged. 

If,  however,  we  accept  as  true  the  theory  that  there  is, 
dormant  in  most  human  breasts,  but  almost  universally  exist¬ 
ing,  an  impulse  to  slay/  Lacenaire's  character  is  not  difficult  to 
analyze.  Possessed  of  a  bright  intellect  and  fruitful  in 
resources,  he  could  have  robbed  the  Chardons  and  the  bank 
messengers  without  staining  his  hands  with  blood.  As  a 


78 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


matter  of  fact,  he  had  passed  the  point  where  the  perpetration 
of  an  ordinary  crime  satisfied  the  evil  promptings  of  his 
depraved  and  perverted  heart.  So  the  boy,  whose  tongue  is 
bitten  by  the  first  glass  of  wine  he  drinks,  if  he  follows  the 
tempter  long  and  faithfully  enough  will  see  the  day  when 
fiery  alcohol  will  not  assuage  the  fiendish  thirst  that  rages 
within  him  Crime  cannot  be  trifled  with,  or  be  made  a  play¬ 
thing.  It  must  be  absolutely  eschewed. 

Let  the  reader,  the  young  reader  most  especially,  remem- 
ber  that  Lacenaire  was  once  as  innocent  and  light-hearted  as 
himself. 

To  further  illustrate  the  little  reliance  that  can  be  placed  in 
the  “honor”  of  thieves,  and  to  show  how  far  fellowship  and 
friendship  can  be  relied  upon  to  protect  one  from  the  cupidity 
of  the  vicious  and  depraved,  a  recent  Chicago  case  of  homicide 
will  be  cited.  The  actors  in  this  bloody  drama,  which 
attracted  world-wide  attention  at  the  time  of  its  enactment, 
were  all  Italians.  For  the  better  comprehension  of  the 
reader,  the  facts  will  be  presented  in  a  narrative  form,  and  in 
the  order  in  which  they  were  discovered  by  the  police. 

Although  the  crime  was  committed  in  Chicago,  the  first 
evidence  of  it  was  discovered  in  the  city  of  Pittsburg.  On  the 
first  day  of  May,  1885,  the  body  of  a  man  was  found  in  a  trunk 
at  the  Union  Depot  in  that  city.  Before  the  trunk — which 
was  a  large  one  of  the  cheapest  construction — was  opened,  it 
was  noticed  that  one  end  was  much  heavier  than  the  other. 
The  body  was  doubled  up,  the  lower  limbs  being  tied  together 
with  a  rope.  The  face  was  badly  discolored,  while  a  slender 
cord  was  wound  about  the  neck  and  brought  down  to  the 
wrists,  around  which  it  was  firmly  knotted.  Their  first  awful 
shock  of  horror  over,  the  employes  who  had  forced  open  the 
trunk  notified  the  police,  who  in  turn  telegraphed  the  partic¬ 
ulars  to  the  authorities  in  Chicago,  from  which  city  the  trunk 
appeared  to  have  been  checked. 

At  almost  the  same  moment  the  police  of  Chicago  were 
placed  in  possession  of  a  promising  clue  to  the  mystery.  An 
Italian  called  at  the  police  headquarters  and  reported  that  his 
brother,  Filippo  Caruso,  a  fruit- vender,  was  missing.  He 


THE  “THREE  ITALIANS” 


79 


had  left  his  home  two  days  before,  and  had  then  upon  his  per¬ 
son  some  three  hundred  dollars  in  currency.  Caruso  had 
made  diligent  search  for  his  brother  in  all  sections  of  the  city 
where  he  was  known,  but  without  obtaining  the  slightest 
information.  The  officers  suggested  that  the  body  reported 
as  found  in  Pittsburg  might  be  that  of  his  brother,  but  this 
the  unhappy  man  refused  to  believe  possible. 

The  police  at  once  took  the  case  in  hand.  From  the 
brother  of  the  murdered  man  they  learned  that  the  latter,  who 
was  of  a  most  amiable  disposition,  having  saved  considerable 
money  from  his  business  of  fruit  peddling,  had  remitted 
funds  to  Italy  to  bring  over  to  America  three  of  his  boyhood 
friends.  These  three  men  were  domiciled  in  Tilden  Avenue, 
a  small  and,  at  that  time,  rather  disreputable  street,  in  the 
west  division  of  the  city,,  only  a  few  doors  from  the  house 
where  the  Carusos  lived.  The  early  friendship  existing 
between  these  four  Italians  appeared  to  have  been  intensified 
by  the  kindness  and  generosity  of  the  missing  man,  who  was  a 
frequent  visitor  at  their  rooms.  The  three  men  were  well 
acquainted  with  the  financial  condition  of  Filippo,  and  knew 
where  he  carried  his  money. 

The  first  move  of  the  police  was  an  effort  to  locate  these 
men.  It  was  quickly  learned  that  the  entire  trio  had  disap¬ 
peared  from  Tilden  Avenue  about  the  time  Caruso  had  been 
missed,  and  careful  inquiry  among  their  acquaintances  failed 
to  discover  a  trace  of  them  In  the  meantime,  the  brother  of 
Filippo  had  gone  to  Pittsburg  to  view  the  remains  of  the  mur¬ 
dered  man  found  at  the  Union  Depot.  He  immediately  and 
completely  identified  the  body  as  that  of  his  brother.  The 
grief  of  the  unhappy  man  was  exaggerated  by  the  circum¬ 
stance  that  he  had  intrusted  his  money  to  his  brother,  and  was 
without  the  means  to  defray  the  expense  of  removing  the 
remains  to  Chicago. 

The  trunk  had  been  checked  from  the  Union  Depot  at 
Chicago,  within  two  and  one-half  hours  after  Francesco 
Caruso  had  parted  with  his  brother.  The  first  step  taken  in 
the  subsequent  investigation  looked  toward  the  determination 
of  the  question,  Who  checked  the  trunk?  The  baggageman 


8o 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


who  had  attached  the  check  was  easily  found,  and  he  said  that 
he  would  be  able  readily  to  identify  the  person  to  whom  he 
had  given  the  corresponding  check.  He  was  able  to  give  a 
good  description  of  the  man,  and  Chief  Doyle  telegraphed  to 
Inspector  Byrnes  of  New  York  to  look  out  for  and  arrest  any 
Italian  answering  this  description.  It  was  not  long  before  he 
was  found  and  captured  in  a  house  on  Wooster  Street  in  that 
city,  where  he  was  temporarily  stopping  in  company  with  a 
married  Italian  woman  from  Chicago.  The  husband  and 
brother  of  this  woman  were  taken  into  custody  by  the  Chicago 
police,  although  there  was  little  tangible  evidence  against  them. 
The  baggageman  at  the  Union  Depot,  who  had  checked  the 
trunk,  was  sent  on  to  New  York,  where  he  fully  identified  the 
prisoner — whose  name  was  Agostino  Gelardi — as  the  indi¬ 
vidual  who  caused  the  trunk  to  be  checked  on  the  morning  of 
Caruso’s  murder. 

A  young  boy  whose  family  lived  in  the  same  house  with 
the  three  men  suspected  of  the  crime,  stated  that  he  had  seen 
a  man  answering  the  description  of  Gelardi  carrying  a  large 
trunk  up  the  stairs  the  morning  of  the  disappearance,  and 
that  he  had  also  seen  the  same  man,  in  company  with  another 
Italian,  bringing  it  down,  some  forty  minutes  later,  when  it 
appeared  to  be  much  heavier.  The  fact  was  especially 
impressed  upon  his  memory  by  the  circumstance  that  he  had 
followed  the  man  upstairs,  prompted  by  a  boyish  curiosity  to 
learn  what  was  to  be  done  with  the  trunk.  Gelardi,  display¬ 
ing  a  large  knife,  had  ordered  him  away  under  threat  of  kill¬ 
ing  him  if  he  remained.  Further  investigation  resulted  in 
finding  the  expressman  who  had  hauled  the  trunk  from  a 
corner,  some  few  blocks  distant,  to  the  Union  Depot.  Upon 
seeing  it  at  the  Central  Station,  he  fully  identified  it  as  the  one 
which  he  had  carried  in  his  wagon. 

The  other  two  men  who  had  lived  in  the  room  with  Gelardi 
were  subsequently  captured  in  Chicago.  They  were  all  much 
terrified,  and  each  began  to  implicate  the  others  while 
attempting  to  exonerate  himself.  Finally,  the  whole  story 
was  disclosed.  Knowing  that  Caruso  was  in  the  habit  of 
carrying  a  considerable  sum  of  money  about  him,  they  con- 


EXECUTION  OF  LACENA1  RE 


PAGE  77 


THE  “THREE  ITALIANS  ” 


8 1 


ceived  the  idea  of  murdering  him  in  order  to  obtain  it.  They 
resolved  upon  strangling  him,  and,  in  order  to  accomplish 
their  purpose,  devised  a  rather  ingenious  scheme.  On  the 
morning  of  April  30th,  while  Caruso  was  visiting  them  at 
their  room,  it  was  suggested  that  the  four  mutually  shave  each 
other.  t  To  this  proposition  their  intended  victim  readily 
assented,  and  when  it  came  his  turn  to  occupy  the  extem¬ 
porized  barber’s  chair,  one  of  the  three  villains  hastily  threw 
a  rope  around  his  neck  and  strangled  him  to  death.  The  leg 
of  his  trousers,  in  which  he  carried  his  money,  was  then  ripped 
open,  and  the  plunder  taken  out  and  divided  among  the  con¬ 
spirators.  After  the  perpetration  of  the  crime  they  separated 
and  sought  safety,  one  in  flight,  the  others  in  concealment. 

“The  three  Italians,’’  as  they  were  commonly  spoken  of  at 
this  time,  Agostino  Gelardi,  Aguazio  Silvestri  and  Giovanni 
Azari,  were  found  guilty  of  murder  on  July  1,  1885,  and  later 
were  executed  together.  The  two  other  suspected  Italians 
were  tried  with  them  and  acquitted. 


CHAPTER  VI 

CIRCUMSTANTIAL  E  V  I D  E  N  C  E  — S  E  V  E  R  A  L  CASES 

An  almost  unlimited  number  of  cases  could  be  cited  to  show 
the  fallacy  of  the  oft-quoted  aphorism,  “Murder  will  out.” 
Such  cases  work  injury  to  society  in  many  ways.  In  the 
first  place,  the  cruel,  revengeful  or  avaricious  criminal  goes 
unpunished,  thus  lessening  the  general  respect  for  the  law, 
and  encouraging  the  perpetrator  to  indulge  in  similar  crimes. 
Again,  the  public  misses  the  salutary  effects  that  would  result 
from  the  detection  and  adequate  punishment  of  the  criminal, 
and  others,  who  have  entered  courses  of  crime,  but  have 
hitherto  halted  this  side  the  awful  commandment,  “Thou 
shalt  not  kill,”  remarking  the  good  fortune  of  the  undetected 
wretch,  may  be,  and  no  doubt  often  are,  tempted  to  “push 
beyond  the  mark,  ’  ’  and  write  upon  their  faces  the  awful  and 
ineffaceable  mark  of  Cain.  But  a  still  greater  evil  remains  in 
the  wake  of  undetected  murder.  Although  the  perpetrator 
be  never  discovered,  in  the  sense  of  being  brought  to 
justice,  there  are  usually  no  end  of  theories  advanced,  involv¬ 
ing  many  persons,  some  of  whom  at  least,  in  the  nature  of 
things,  must  be  entirely  innocent.  Thus  thousands  of  people 
annually  pass  under  a  cloud  so  dark  and  oppressive  as  to 
destroy  their  usefulness  and  embitter  their  lives,  together 
with  those  of  many  others  who  are  connected  with  them  by 
blood  and  association. 

Innocent  people  are  often  suspected  of  crime,  but  when  the 
mystery  is  cleared  up,  the  dark  veil  lifts,  and,  so  far  from 
injuring  them,  excites  the  sympathy  and  often  the  aid  of  those 
who,  otherwise,  would  have  despised  and  denounced  them. 
In  the  cases  of  murder  that  long  baffle  the  skill  of  the  detect¬ 
ive  to  unravel,  the  first  solution  is  often  entirely  different 

82 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE 


83 


from  any  theory  that  has  been  advanced  by  the  numerous 
“Hawkshaws”  that  exist  in  every  community  on  earth.  That 
erratic  and  gruesome,  but  at  the  same  time  highly  imaginative 
and  logical,  genius,  Edgar  Allan  Poe,  to  whom  reference  has 
already  been  made  in  these  pages,  tells  a  story  of  the  unravel¬ 
ing  of  a  murder  mystery  in  which  the  denouement  showed 
that  no  murder  had  been  committed  within  the  strict  definition 
of  the  term.  While  possessing  a  basis  of  substantial  facts, 
many  of  the  details  are  doubtless  pure  inventions  of  the 
imaginative  author.  The  writer  thinks  that  he  has  demon¬ 
strated  the  propriety  of  using  fictitious  illustrations  when  they 
have  been  evolved  in  a  mind  stored  with  historical  and  other 
facts,  and  trained  to  the  exercise  of  logical  methods.  It  will 
be  given  here  in  brief  outline;  not  only  as  showing  how 
ordinary  theories  are  often  wide  at  sea  in  solving  complicated 
riddles  in  crime,  thus  explaining  in  part,  at  least,  why  so 
many  murders  go  undetected,  but  as  showing  something  of 
the  true  method  of  ferreting  out  criminals  and  utilizing  cir¬ 
cumstantial  evidence.  Poe  published  this  gruesome  case 
under  the  title,  “The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue.” 

The  crime  whose  history  makes  up  the  tale,  occurred  in  the 
city  of  Paris,  something  like  half  a  century  ago.  Two  ladies, 
Mme.  L’Espagne  and  her  unmarried  daughter,  lived  alone  in 
a  large  house  situated  in  one  of  the  most  densely  populated 
portions  of  the  great  city.  About  two  o’clock  one  morning, 
the  entire  neighborhood  was  aroused  from  slumber  by  a  series 
of  piercing  shrieks,  proceeding,  apparently,  from  the  L’Es¬ 
pagne  house.  But  a  few  minutes  elapsed  before  an  excited 
throng  gathered  in  the  street.  Receiving  no  response  to  loud 
knockings,  the  front  door  was  broken  open,  and  a  number  of 
men,  some  of  them  armed,  rushed  intp  the  house.  Finding 
the  lower  floor  untenanted,  they  at  once  began  ascending  the 
stairs.  While  thus  employed,  those  in  advance  distinctly 
heard  two  voices,  seemingly  engaged  in  angry  altercation. 
No  words  were  distinct  enough  to  be  understood,  but  the 
voices  were  quite  marked  and  peculiar;  one  was  coarse  and 
bass,  the  other  pitched  in  a  high  key.  As  to  the  fact  that 
there  were  two  people  above,  no  doubt  could  be  entertained. 


84 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


The  band  of  investigators  rushed  on  until  the  fourth  and  last 
floor  of  the  house  was  gained.  Here  they  found  the  door 
closed  and  securely  locked  on  the  inside.  Without  delay  it 
was  broken  down,  and,  with  becoming  caution,  the  foremost 
men  entered  a  large  bed-chamber,  usually  occupied  by  the 
ladies,  which  was  entirely  untenanted.  Evidences  of  a 
struggle  were,  however,  everywhere  apparent.  The  room 
was  in  the  utmost  disorder;  the  furniture  was  lying  promiscu¬ 
ously  about,  an  iron  safe  lay  overturned  upon  the  floor,  while 
papers,  clothing  and  various  other  articles  were  scattered 
about  the  floor. 

A  closer  examination  of  the  premises  disclosed  upon  the 
hearth  a  bloody  razor  and  a  large  tuft  of  long  grey  hair, 
bedabbled  with  blood,  while  a  quantity  of  soot  directed  the 
attention  of  the  searchers  to  the  chimney.  An  investigation 
.  showed  that  the  flue  was  entirely  closed  with  some  unknown 
object,  to  remove  which  required  the  united  strength  of  four 
strong  men.  To  the  horror  of  the  spectators,  it  proved  to  be 
the  dead  body  of  Mile.  L’Espagne,  which  had  evidently  been 
forced  up  the  flue,  feet  foremost.  A  hurried  examination  of 
the  corpse  disclosed  many  severe  contusions  and  abrasions, 
but  these  might  have  been  administered  in  the  process  of 
concealing  it  from  view  in  the  chimney.  The  cause  of  death 
was,  however,  apparent.  The  unfortunate  young  lady  had 
died  from  strangulation.  Her  eyeballs  were  fairly  projecting 
from  their  sockets;  her  tongue  was  extended,  and  had  been 
literally  bitten  through  as  though  in  the  intense  agony  of  an 
awful  death-struggle,  while  upon  her  throat  marks  of  fingers 
of  unusual  size  and  length,  mutely  though  plainly,  told  the 
story  of  the  hideous  crime. 

No  trace  of  the  elder  lady  could  be  found  in  the  house,  but 
her  body  was  soon  after  discovered  in  the  garden,  with  the 
head  almost  severed;  apparently  the  work  of  the  bloody  razor. 

Nothing  of  value  seemed  to  have  been  taken,  the  ladies 
were  without  known  enemies,  and  the  completely  baffled  police 
speedily  abandoned  the  case  as  not  susceptible  of  solution. 
But  as  the  author’s  scheme  included  the  unraveling  of  the 
strange  mystery,  he  introduced  a  private  individual,  a  prede- 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE 


85 


cessor  of  the  Sherlock  Holmes  of  current  literature,  in  the 
realm  of  amateur  detective  work,  who  succeeded  in  working- 
out  the  problem  to  the  smallest  fraction.  Readers  of  Dr. 
Doyle’s  books  may,  without  being  themselves  largely  gifted 
with  detective  ability,  discover  in  the  reasoning  and  methods 
of  Poe’s  amateur  something  similar  to  those  employed  by  the 
later  hero  of  “The  Sign  of  the  Four.’’ 

Poe’s  “Vidocq”  began  by  making  a  careful  and  minute 
examination  of  the  premises.  He  satisfied  himself  that  the 
first  persons  upon  the  scene  had  found  the  only  door  to  the 
apartment  locked  on  the  'inside,  the  chimney  had  been  tightly 
closed  by  the  dead  body  of  the  murdered  young  lady,  hence 
the  perpetrator  of  the  crime  must  have  made  his  exit  by  way 
of  one  of  the  windows.  These  he  found  closed  both  by  nails 
and  automatic  springs.  The  nail  in  the  window  nearest  the 
fireplace  was  much  rusted,  and  the  sash  might  well  have  been 
raised;  indeed,  appearances  indicated  that  it  had  been.  To 
leap  from  the  window  to  a  trellis  adjoining,  he  judged  a  pos¬ 
sible  though  extremely  hazardous  undertaking.  Not  far  from 
this  window,  however,  was  a  lightning'-rod  which  a  trained 
athlete  might  have  climbed. 

With  all  these  facts  in  his  possession,  the  investigator,  after 
the  method  still  employed  in  story  books,  retired  to  the 
seclusion  of  his  own  room  and  proceeded  to  reason  out  the 
solution.  And  here  he  exercised  rare  ability,  and  adopted 
methods  of  thought  entirely  reasonable  and  decidedly  scien¬ 
tific.  His  system  seems  to  have  been  the  elimination  of  all 
theories  impossible  of  accomplishment,  thus  reducing  the 
problem  to  narrow  limits.  In  the  first  place,  no  motive  could 
be  discerned  for  the  fearful  tragedy,  yet,  none  the  less,  it  had 
taken  place.  This  pointed  to  an  insane  or  irresponsible  agent. 
To  have  carried  the  body  of  Mme.  L’Espagne  down  the 
slender  lightning-rod  he  decided  to  be  something  beyond  the 
power  of  a  man  to  accomplish — yet  it  had  been  found  in  the 
garden.  The  fact  that  the  united  strength  of  four  men  had 
been  necessary  to  dislodge  the  body  of  the  younger  lady  from 
the  chimney  flue  proved  quite  conclusively  that  no  two  men 
could  have  placed  it  there.  Again,  the  size  and  length  of  the 

S\ 

\  \ 

v  \ 


86 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


marks  upon  the  neck  of  the  murdered  young  lady  indicated  a 
hand  larger  than  that  of  a  human  being,  as  also  did  the 
strength  that  had  been  exerted  in  strangling  her  and  in  pluck¬ 
ing  a  large  mass  of  hair  from  the  head  of  her  mother.  Lastly, 
the  overturning  of  a  safe  weighing  several  hundred  pounds 
pointed  in  the  same  direction. 

It  is  impossible  that  a  man,  or  even  two  men,  could  have 
accomplished  these  things,  argued  the  investigator,  yet  they 
were  done.  The  impossible  having  been  eliminated,  the  only 
possible  remaining  explanation  is  that  the  deed  was  not  per¬ 
petrated  by  a  human  being,  hence  it  must  be  charged  to  some 
member  of  the  ape  family,  many  of  which  possess  strength  and 
agility  far  in  excess  of  any  man.  When  the  amateur  had 
reached  this  most  logical  conclusion,  a  greasy  blue  ribbon 
which  he  had  found  on  the  ground  at  the  bottom  of  the 
lightning-rod,  assumed  an  importance  before  unthought  of. 
This  ribbon  was  tied  into  a  very  curious  knot,  which,  with  the 
almost  universal  knowledge  attributed  to  the  hero  of  the 
modern  novel  we  have  referred  to,  Poe’s  investigator  at  once 
knew  to  be  peculiar  to  the  Maltese  and  to  sailors  employed  on 
vessels  plying  to  and  from  Maltese  points.  He  concluded  that 
some  sailor,  familiar  with  Malta  and  its  peculiar  customs,  had 
brought  an  ourang-outang  to  Paris,  where  it  had  escaped  from 
its  master,  climbed  the  lightning-rod,  murdered  the  two 
ladies,  thrust  the  body  of  one  up  the  chimney  and  carried  the 
other  down  to  the  garden  when  leaving  the  premises. 

The  affair  being  still  a  very  recent  occurrence,  the  investi¬ 
gator  concluded  that  the  sailor  was  probably  still  in  the  city. 
Accordingly,  he  inserted  in  the  newspapers  a  skilfully  worded 
advertisement  asking  the  owner  of  an  ourang-outang  that  had 
recently  escaped  from  custody,  to  call  upon  him.  The  next 
day  the  Maltese  sailor  that  the  detective  had  pictured  in  his 
mind,  and  of  whose  existence  he  felt  morally  certain,  pre¬ 
sented  himself.  He  was  evidently  badly  frightened,  but, 
reassured  by  the  advertiser,  was  readily  induced  to  tell  his 
story. 

The  deduction  of  the  amateur  proved  to  have  been  sub¬ 
stantially  correct ;  indeed,  the  only  thing  he  had  not  beep  able 


s 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE 


87 


to  account  for  was  the  voices  heard  by  the  discoverers  of  the 
crime.  The  sailor  had  brought  the  animal  with  him  to  Paris, 
and  on  the  night  of  the  tragedy  he  had  made  his  escape.  The 
owner  knew  him  to  be  of  a  most  vicious  disposition,  and  feared 
that  he  would  kill  some  one ;  besides,  he  was  of  considerable 
value.  Accordingly,  he  had  started  in  hot  pursuit.  At  length 
he  saw  the  brute  in  the  act  of  entering  the  window  of  the 
chamber,  whither  he  had  apparently  returned  after  carrying 
down  the  body  of  Mme.  L’Espagne.  He  had  evidently  leaped 
to  the  window-sill  from  the  trellis.  The  owner  resolved  to 
follow  the  animal,  but  realized  that  it  would  be  impossible  for 
him  to  make  such  a  leap.  For  a  moment  he  was  in  despair, 
but,  espying  the  lightning-rod,  he  brought  into  service  his 
sailor-like  accomplishment  of  climbing,  and  soon  entered  the 
chamber.  A  glance  told  him  that  an  awful  crime  had  been 
committed,  although  no  human  being  was  in  sight.  He  at 
once  attempted  to  capture  the  ourang-outang ;  but  the  beast, 
as  if  half  conscious  that  he  had  done  wrong  and  might  well 
expect  punishment,  eluded  him  and  ran  from  place  to  place, 
overturning  the  furniture  and  adding  to  the  disorder  already 
existing  in  the  apartment.  The  sailor  had  repeatedly  cried 
out  in  heavy  and  threatening  tones,  in  the  hope  of  subduing 
the  animal,  which  had  answered  with  gibberish  in  its  peculiar 
shrill  voice.  Finally  it  gained  the  open  window,  and  leaping 
upon  the  trellis,  hastily  made  its  escape. 

At  this  moment  the  sailor  heard  footsteps  ascending  the 
stairs,  and,  realizing  that  his  position  was  a  most  compromis¬ 
ing  one  and  that  he  might  be  unable  to  establish  his  inno¬ 
cence,  he  had  quickly  made  his  escape  by  the  lightning-rod, 
closing  the  window  as  he  left  the  room. 

In  the  “Sign  of  the  Four,”  to  which  reference  has  been 
made  in  this  chapter,  Dr.  Doyle  employs  true  detective 
methods.  Without  being  in  any  just  sense  an  imitation  of  the 
account  we  have  outlined,  it  follows  substantially  the  same 
general  lines,  and  reaches  positive  conclusions  by  the  very 
same  mathematical  rule  of  casting  out,  or  rejecting,  all 
theories  that  are  clearly  impossible.  In  this  rather  remarkable 
work,  a  murder  had  been  committed  in  London  by  means  of  a 


88 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


poisoned  thorn  which  was  found  imbedded  in  the  dead  man’s 
head.  As  in  Poe’s  tale,  the  door  of  the  room  where  the  crime 

i  ' 

was  committed  was  found  securely  closed,  while  a  rope  sus¬ 
pended  from  the  window-sill  told  how  some  person  had  escaped 
after  the  homicide.  Sherlock  Plolmes,  the  investigator,  dis¬ 
covered  that  the  fatal  thorn  had  been  shot  from  a  small 
opening  in  the  ceiling.  Entering  a  low  attic,  he  found  traces 
of  the  perpetrator  in  the  mark  of  a  naked  foot  in  the  dust. 
The  footprint  was  very  small,  the  toes  being  separated  in  a 
peculiar  manner.  This  circumstance,  coupled  with  the  short¬ 
ness  of  the  stride  in  walking,  convinced  Holmes  that  the 
murderer  was  a  very  small  man,  little  more  than  a  dwarf. 
With  a  universal  knowledge,  which,  most  unfortunately,  no 
real  detective  on  earth  ever  possessed,  he  immediately 
determined  that  the  poisoned  thorn  was  of  a  species  indigenous 
to  Blair’s  Island,  one  of  the  Andaman  Islands,  and  found 
nowhere  else.  The  natives  of  the  island  the  investigator  knew 
to  be  dwarfs  with  spreading  toes,  who  shot  poisoned  thorns 
from  blow-guns.  These  deductions  proved  correct  to  the 
smallest  detail.  The  motive  was  robbery,  and  the  murder  had 
not  been  a  part  of  the  plan,  which  had  been  concocted  by  an 
English  convict  who  had  escaped  from  an  island  criminal 
colony  through  the  aid  of  the  barefooted  dwarf,  who  had 
accompanied  him  to  England.  This  dwarf,  as  great  a  climber 
as  Poe’s  ourang-outang,  had  gained  the  roof  of  the  house  and 
entered  the  low  attic  through  a  trap-door.  He  had  no  instruc¬ 
tions  to  kill  the  occupant  of  the  room,  toward  whom  the  con¬ 
vict  bore  no  malice,  but  had  yielded  to  his  natural  homicidal 
impulse.  After  doing  this,  he  lowered  a  rope  he  had  brought 
with  him,  by  means  of  which  his  master  climbed  into  the 
chamber. 

In  his  professional  experience  the  author  has  encountered 
many  murder  mysteries  in  which  clues  were  not  more  definite 
than  in  this  case,  where  correct  solutions  were  obtained.  The 
“fine  work’’  in  this  instance  is  more  apparent  than  real. 
While  the  reasoning  is  logical  and  the  conclusions  entirely 
warranted,  the  remarkable  part  of  the  performance  consists  in 
the  marvelous  knowledge  of  the  investigator,  which  never 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE 


89 


fails  him,  and  which  constitutes  one  of  the  chief  fascinations  of 
the  work. 

In  the  Probst  case,  detailed  in  Chapter  VIII.  of  this  volume, 
a  conviction  founded  entirely  upon  circumstantial  evidence 
was  secured,  and  its  justice  fully  established  by  the  confession 
of  the  condemned.  Yet  there  was  some  force  in  the  theory  of 
the  defense  that  Probst  might  possibly  be  innocent  of  the 
murders,  though  guilty  of  theft.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  many 
instances  are  on  record  where  men  convicted  on  circumstan¬ 
tial  evidence  have  afterwards  been  proven  innocent.  An 
instance  of  this  kind  occurred  in  England  in  1736. 

At  that  time,  and  for  some  years  before,  Jonathan  Brad¬ 
ford  kept  a  public  inn  in  Oxfordshire,  on  the  great  road  from 
London  to  Oxford.  During  that  year,  a  gentleman  named 
Hayes,  who  was  traveling  from  London  to  Oxford,  put  up  at 
Bradford’s  Inn.  At  supper  he  was  joined  by  two  travelers, 
like  himself  strangers  in  the  house.  In  conversation  Mr. 
Hayes  mentioned  that  he  was  carrying  quite  a  large  sum  of 
money  with  him,  in  consequence  of  which  he  felt  somewhat 
timid.  Early  in  the  evening  all  retired.  The  two  gentlemen, 
who  were  traveling  in  company,  occupied  a  double-bedded 
room  near  the  apartment  assigned  to  Mr.  Hayes.  Some  hours 
after  they  had  retired,  one  of  the  gentlemen  was  awakened  by 
an  unusual  noise.  Listening  intently,  he  heard  groans  which 
seemed  to  proceed  from  a  room  near  by.  Being  convinced 
that  he  had  made  no  mistake,  he  hastened  to  arouse  his  com¬ 
panion.  Together  they  listened  for  a  few  minutes  and  became 
convinced  that  the  groans  proceeded  from  some  one  who  was 
dying.  Securing  a  camdle,  which  they  had  left  burning  in  the 
chimney  corner,  they  cautiously  entered  the  hall  and  made 
their  way  to  the  adjoining  chamber,  from  which  they  had 
concluded  the  sounds  proceeded.  They  found  the  door  ajar 
and  a  light  shining  within.  They  entered  the  apartment  and, 
to  their  utter  consternation,  perceived  a  person  lying  on  the 
bed  actually  weltering  in  his  blood;  while,  standing  over  him 
was  a  man,  holding  a  lantern  in  one  hand  and  a  bloody  knife 
in  the  other.  The  man  had  all  the  appearance  of  terror,  but 
it  appeared  to  them  the  terror  which  might  well  overwhelm  a 


9° 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


murderer  who  had  accomplished  his  dark  design.  An  instant 
later  the  two  gentlemen  perceived  that  the  man  was  none 
other  than  Bradford,  the  landlord.  Without  delay  they 
seized  their  host,  disarmed  him  of  his  knife  and  charged  him 
with  being  the  murderer.  By  this  time  Bradford  seemed  to 
have  recovered  from  his  consternation,  and  vehemently 
asserted  his  innocence.  He  declared  that,  like  the  two  gentle¬ 
men,  he  had  been  aroused  by  the  groaning,  and,  seizing  a 
knife  to  defend  himself  and  a  lantern  to  light  his  way,  he 
had  made  his  way  to  Hayes’  chamber,  where  he  had  been 
overcome  with  horror  at  the  fearful  spectacle  he  there 
encountered. 

His  assertions  did  not  receive  the  smallest  credence;  he 
was  kept  closely  confined  during  the  remainder  of  the  night, 
and  in  the  morning  brought  before  a  neighboring  justice  of  the 
peace.  Bradford  continued  to  deny  his  guilt,  but  the  justice, 
having  heard  the  evidence,  committed  him  to  await  the  action 
of  the  grand  jury.  Such  an  impression  had  the  case  made 
upon  the  magistrate,  that  in  writing  out  the  mittimus,  he 
remarked:  “Mr.  Bradford,  either  you  or  myself  committed 
this  murder.  ’  ’ 

This  terrible  tragedy  and  the  arrest  of  Bradford  became  at 
once  the  subjects  of  general  conversation  for  the  entire  county. 
There  was  not  an  ale-house,  tavern  or  public  place  of  any 
kind  where  the  accused  man  was  not  put  on  trial  for  his  life. 
Bradford  had  always  borne  an  exceptionally  good  character, 
no  charge  of  any  kind  of  wrong-doing  having  ever  been 
brought  against  him.  Given  full  credit  for  this,  every 
improvised  court  in  Oxfordshire  found  the  accused  guilty,  and 
decided  that  he  would  be  hanged,  if  he  ever  got  his  deserts. 
But  the  universal  court  of  Judge  Gossip  speedily  gave  place  to 
the  assizes  at  Oxford.  Being  arraigned,  the  prisoner  entered 
a  plea  of  not  guilty,  and  the  case  was  submitted  to  a  jury. 
The  two  gentlemen  who  had  discovered  the  murdered  man 
with  Bradford  standing  over  him  told  their  stories  under  oath, 
with  decided  effect;  the  fact  that  the  landlord  had  heard  Mr. 
Hayes  declare  that  he  had  a  large  sum  of  money  with  him,  and 
the  guilty  look  upon  his  face  when  they  discovered  him  with 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE 


91 


the  bloody  knife' in  his  hand,  which  was  proven  to  be  his  own, 
being  strongly  brought  out. 

The  defense  of  Bradford  was  the  same  that  he  had  made  to 
the  two  gentlemen  who  had  surprised  and  seized  him.  He  had 
heard  the  groans,  had  seized  a  knife,  lighted  a  lantern,  and, 
actuated  by  feelings  of  humanity  and  a  desire  to  protect  his 
guests  and  preserve  the  good  name  of  his  house,  upon  which  a 
blight  had  never  before  fallen,  had  rushed,  into  the  room  of  the 
murdered  man.  He  admitted  that  he  had  been  seized  with 
consternation  and  had,  perhaps,  presented  a  guilty-looking 
countenance,  but  declared  that  this  was  but  the  natural  result 
of  the  horror  of  the  occasion,  and  was  not  incompatible  with 
his  absolute  innocence.  Bradford  was  defended  by  able 
counsel,  who  insisted  upon  the  inherent  weakness  of  circum¬ 
stantial  evidence  and  the  good  character  of  their  client.  Their 
efforts  were'  vain ;  a  clearer  case  could  hardly  be  imagined, 
and  the  jury  returned  a  verdict  of  guilty,  without  finding  it 
necessary  to  leave  their  box.  The  prisoner  was  promptly 
sentenced,  and  died  on  the  scaffold  three  days  later,  protest¬ 
ing  his  innocence  of  the  crime. 

The  dying  declaration  of  Bradford  was  universally  disbe¬ 
lieved,  even  those  who  had  been  his  staunchest  friends  con¬ 
sidering  him  clearly  guilty.  And  yet,  it  ultimately  turned  out 
that  he  had  spoken  the  truth.  About  eighteen  months  after 
the  execution  of  the  innkeeper,  a  man  who  had  for  some  time 
served  as  his  footman,  fell  violently  ill,  and  being  at  the  point 
of  death,  confessed  that  he,  himself,  had  murdered  Mr.  Hayes. 
In  common  with  his  master,  he  had  heard  the  traveler 
announce  that  he  was  carrying  quite  a  large  sum  of  money, 
and  had  at  once  conceived  a  plan  to  kill  and  rob  him.  This  he 
had  carried  into  execution.  He  had  barely  secured  the 
money,  gold  watch  and  snuff-box  of  the  murdered  man,  and 
gained  his  own  room,  when  he  heard  Bradford  approach¬ 
ing.  He  had  secreted  the  stolen  property  and  permitted  the 
landlord  to  go  to  the  scaffold  for  a  crime  he  had  not  com¬ 
mitted. 

And  yet  Jonathan  Bradford,  though  technically  innocent, 
was  none  the  less  morally  guilty.  Before  his  execution  he 


92 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


confessed  to  a  clergyman  that  he  had  gone  to  the  room  of  Mr. 
Hayes  with  the  intention  of  killing  and  robbing  him.  Arriv¬ 
ing,  he  found  the  gentleman  in  the  last  agonies  of  death,  and 
was  so  horrified  and  dumfounded  as  to  be  unable  to  move. 
In  his  excitement  he  dropped  his  knife  upon  the  body,  where 
it  became  stained  with  blood,  as  likewise  were  his  hands  in 
recovering  it.  After  the  confession  of  the  servant,  the 
clergyman  made  the  matter  public,  thus  clearly  establishing 
the  truth  of  the  transaction. 

The  reports  of  this  remarkable  trial  that  have  come  down  to 
us  are  rather  meagre  and  do  not  show  that  any  use  was  made 
by  the  defendant,  upon  his  trial,  of  the  circumstance  that, 
though  the  money  and  valuables  of  Mr.  Hayes  were  missing, 
they  were  not  found  upon  the  person  of  Bradford.  Probably 
this  point  was  made,  and  met  with  the  suggestion  that  he  had 
secreted  the  plunder  and  returned  to  make  sure  that  his  victim 
was  dead,  or  to  make  a  further  search  for  valuables. 

Contrasting  this  case  with  that  of  Anton  Probst,  Bradford 
appears  to  have  been  condemned  on  quite  as  good  and 
sufficient  evidence  as  was  the  murderer  of  the  Deejing  family. 
The  bearing  of  a  prisoner  from  the  time  of  the  commission  of 
a  crime  down  to  and  including  his  trial  has  a  decided  effect 
upon  a  jury.  In  his  soul,  Bradford  was  overcome  with  all  the 
terrors  of  guilt.  He  had  led  a  worthy  life,  and  his  natural 
cupidity  had  tempted  him  to  commit  murder.  Not  being  a 
hardened  criminal,  his  conscience  doubtless  caused  him  to  look 
and  act  like  a  guilty  man,  thus  aiding  in  his  own  conviction. 
Had  he  told  the  jury  the  real  facts  in  the  case,  it  would  hardly 
have  availed  him,  since  the  truth  would  have  appeared  vastly 
more  improbable  than  the  lie  he  concocted,  which,  though 
highly  unreasonable,  carried  with  it  something  of  plausibility. 

Another  instance  of  conviction  upon  circumstantial  evi¬ 
dence  is  that  of  William  Shaw,  who  was  executed  in  Edin¬ 
burgh,  Scotland,  in  1721.  Shaw  was  an  upholsterer,  with  one 
child,  a  daughter,  named  Catherine.  Even  at  that  early  day, 
Edinburgh  had  anticipated  the  modern  apartment-house,  and 
a  considerable  portion  of  the  people  lived  in  large  buildings 
divided  into  what  we  now  term  “flats,”  where  a  single 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE 


93 


entrance  accommodated  several  different  families.  In  apart¬ 
ments  of  this  descrpition  lived  William  Shaw  and  his  daughter. 
Catherine  had  encouraged  the  addresses  of  a  young  man 
named  John  Lawson,  a  jeweler  to  whom  the  father  was 
violently  opposed.  In  turn  he  had  presented  a  suitor  for  her 
hand  in  the  person  of  the  son  of  a  friend,  named  Alexander. 

One  evening,  a  man  named  Morrison,  whose  apartments 

adjoined  those  of  the  Shaws,  overheard  the  father  and 

daughter  seemingly  engaged  in  an  angry  altercation.  Unable 

to  understand  the  entire  conversation,  he  distinctly  heard  the 

words  “barbarity,”  “cruelty,”  “death,”  in  the  voice  of 

« 

Catherine.  These  words  were  several  times  repeated.  At 
length  Shaw  left  his  daughter,  locking  the  door  after  him. 
For  some  time  after  the  father  left,  absolute  silence  ensued, 
but  after  a  time  Morrison  heard  groans  which  evidently 
emanated  from  the  daughter’s  room.  Thoroughly  alarmed, 
he  summoned  some  neighbors.  The  party  approached  the 
door,  and,  listening  intently,  heard  Catherine  say,  “Cruel 
father,  thou  art  the  cause  of  my  death.  ’  ’  A  constable  was 
summoned  and  the  door  broken  open.  Catherine  Shaw  was 
found  weltering  in  her  blood,  a  knife  in  her  side.  She  was 
alive,  but  speechless.  In  answer  to  a  question  whether  her 
father  was  the  cause  of  her  death,  she  seemed  to  nod  her  head, 
as  indicating  an  affirmative  answer,  and  almost  immediately 
expired. 

At  this  very  moment  Shaw  entered  the  room.  He  saw  his 
neighbors  and  the  constable,  noted  his  daughter  dead  upon  the 
bed,  and  seemed  ready  to  sink  to  the  floor.  The  officers  at 
once  placed  him  under  arrest,  and  found  marks  of  blood  upon 
his  shirt  front,  which  he  claimed  had  come  from  a  wound  upon 
his  own  person. 

WTilliam  Shaw  was  arraigned  upon  the  charge  of  having 
murdered  his  daughter.  The  facts  set  forth  were  proven 
against  him,  and  he  was  convicted.  In  November,  1721,  he 
was  executed,  and  his  body  hanged  in  chains  at  Leith  Walk. 

Was  there  a  person  in  Edinburgh  who  believed  the  father 
guiltless?  No,  not  one!  notwithstanding  his  last  words  at  the 
gallows  were:  “I  am  innocent  of  my  daughter’s  murder.” 


94 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


But  in  August,  1722,  as  a  man,  who  had  become  the  possessor 
of  the  late  William  Shaw’s  apartments,  was  rummaging  by 
chance  in  the  chamber  where  Catherine  Shaw  died,  he  acci¬ 
dentally  perceived  a  paper  fallen  into  a  cavity  on  one  side  of 
the  chimney.  It  was  folded  as  a  letter,  which,  on  opening, 
contained  the  following:  “Barbarous  father,  your  cruelty  in 
having  put  it  out  of  my  power  ever  to  join  my  fate  to  that  of 
the  only  man  I  could  love,  and  tyrannically  insisting  upon  my 
marrying  one  whom  I  always  hated,  has  made  me  form  a 
resolution  to  put  an  end  to  an  existence  which  has  now  become 
a  burden  to  me.  I  doubt  not  I  shall  find  mercy  in  another 
world;  for  sure  no  benevolent  being  can  require  that  I  should 
any  longer  live  in  torment  to  myself  in  this!  My  death  I  lay 
to  your  charge ;  when  you  read  this  consider  yourself  as  the 
inhuman  wretch  that  plunged  the  knife  into  the  bosom  of  the 
unhappy — Catherine  Shaw.” 

This  letter  being  shown,  the  handwriting  was  recognized 
and  avowed  to  be  Catherine  Shaw’s  by  many  of  her  relations 
and  friends.  It  became  the  public  talk;  the  magistracy  of 
Edinburgh,  on  a  scrutiny,  being  convinced  of  its  authenticity, 
ordered  the  body  of  William  Shaw  to  be  taken  from  the 
gibbet,  and  given  to  his  family  for  interment ;  and,  as  the  only 
possible  reparation  to  his  memory  and  the  honor  of  his  surviv¬ 
ing  relations,  they  caused  a  pair  of  colors  to  be  waved  over  his 
grave  in  token  of  his  innocence,  such  being  at  that  time  the 
Scotch  custom. 

The  cases  of  Jonathan  Bradford  and  William  Shaw  are  well 
known  to  criminal  lawyers,  and  have  been  scores,  perhaps 
hundreds,  of  times  repeated  to  juries  who  were  called  to  pass 
upon  the  guilt  or  innocence  of  prisoners  where  the  cause  of  » 
the  prosecution  rested  entirely,  or  largely,  upon  circumstantial 
evidence.  Doubtless  they  have  often  proved  effective,  yet 
hardly  with  reason.  In  the  nature  of  things,  human  testimony 
is,  at  the  best,  defective.  That  circumstances  sometimes  weave 
themselves  into  a  chain  that  seemingly  establishes  the  guilt  ot 
a  really  innocent  person,  the  instances  cited,  and  numerous 
others  that  might  be  referred  to,  abundantly  prove.  But  is 
circumstantial  evidence  to  be  sweepingly  condemned  and 


95 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE 

systematically  discredited  on  this  account?  When  everything 
is  taken  into  account  the  answer  must  certainly  be  in  the 
negative.  Not  only  is  circumstantial  evidence  to  be  credited, 
but  in  some  respects  it  is  entitled  to  higher  consideration  than 
the  testimony  of  eye-witnesses.  The  latter  may,  often  do,  lie 
with  impunity,  while  it  is  only  rarely — so  rarely  that  the 
instances  become  historical — that  a  sequence  of  events,  when 
critically  considered,  leads  to  false  conclusions.  Even  in  cases 
that  depend  upon  direct  testimony,  the  strongest  supports  are 
often  trivial  incidents,  by  which  the  truth  of  the  main  state¬ 
ment  is  made  to  stand  or  fall.  This  is  well  understood  by  the 
attorney  skilled  in  cross-examination,  who  always  endeavors 
to  discredit  the  witness  by  bringing  his  statements  into  direct 
conflict  with  a  clearly  and  definitely  established  fact. 

Circumstantial  evidence  is  entitled  to  the  highest  credit, 
but,  at  the  same  time,  it  should  be  closely,  and,  what  is  more 
to  the  point,  intelligently,  criticised.  In  the  experience  of  the 
author — who  has  had  much  to  do  with  the  detection  and  pun¬ 
ishment  of  crime — where  this  class  of  evidence  misleads,  it  is 
usually  because  it  is  not  carefully  weighed,  or  is  chargeable  to 
unscrupulous  methods  on  the  part  of  lawyers  or  detectives. 
One  fact  is  clear;  for  every  innocent  man  who  has  been 
hanged  upon  circumstantial  evidence,  ten,  probably  ten  times 
ten,  of  the  same  class  have  suffered  death  through  direct  evi¬ 
dence,  based  upon  deliberate  perjury.  If  this  be  doubted, 
read  the  chapter  on  Judicial  Murders  in  the  present  volume, 
and  learn  that  men  are  greater  and  more  successful  liars  than 
facts. 

Of  all  crimes  conceivable  by  the  human  mind  none  arouse 
such  feelings  of  abhorrence  and  detestation  as  matricide.  It 
seems  incredible  that  one  can  become  so  debased,  so  utterly 
lost,  not  alone  to  the  natural  feelings  of  a  man,  but  to  the 
instincts  of  a  brute  as  well,  that  he  can  deliberately  take  the 
life  of  the  mother  that  bore  and  nourished  him.  Yet,  without 
being  common,  such  crimes  are  by  no  means  rare.  In  the 
recorded  cases,  anger  and  drunkenness  will  generally  be 
found  the  moving  causes.  While  these  offer  nothing  by  way 
of  excuse,  they  place  the  offense  on  a  different  footing  than 


9<5 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


those  where  it  is  committed  from  motives  of  cupidity.  One  of 
the  most  notable  cases  of  matricide  for  gain,  in  the  sense  of 
being  cruel  and  repulsive,  occurred  in  1889  in  the  State  of 
Michigan,  a  conviction  being  obtained  on  circumstantial  evi¬ 
dence  alone. 

On  the  morning  of  January  24th,  of  that  year,  pursuant  to  a 
previous  appointment,  a  paperhanger  went  to  the  house  of  a 
Mrs.  Latimer,  a  widow  lady,  living  in  the  city  of  Jackson, 
Michigan.  On  arriving,  he  found  the  door  open,  and  entering, 
was  horror-stricken  to  discover  the  woman  he  had  called  to  see 
dead  upon  the  floor  of  her  bedroom.  Rushing  from  the  house, 
he  hurriedly  gave  the  alarm,  and  the  police  at  once  began  an 
investigation.  They  found  a  bullet  wound  in  her  neck  and 
another  in  her  face,  while  the  position  of  the  wounds  seemed 
to  indicate  that  the  assassin  had  been  leaning  over  his  victim 
when  he  fired.  Evidently,  neither  of  these  wounds  had 
proved  fatal,  and  from  the  position  of  the  body  it  was  the 
opinion  of  the  police  that  the  unfortunate  lady  had  succeeded 
in  getting  out  of  her  bed  after  being  shot  and  in  staggering  to 
the  corner  of  the  room,  where  she  either  fell  or  was  struck 
down  by  the  murderer.  Here  she  had  been  strangled  to 
death,  and  her  assailant,  when  life  was  extinct,  raising  her 
head  and  resting  it  on  the  cushioned  arm  of  an  easy  chair,  had 
carefully  straightened  out  her  night-dress  and  smoothed  each 
ruffle  as  if  she  herself  had  deliberately  lain  down  there  to  take 
her  own  life. 

Upon  the  door  of  the  cellar,  marks  were  found  which  sug¬ 
gested  the  work  of  a  burglar’s  “jimmy,”  but  they  lacked  the 
appearance  of  freshness,  and  left  the  police  in  doubt  as  to  how 
ingress  to  the  house  had  been  obtained  by  the  murderer. 

The  first  theory  was  that  the  murder  had  been  committed 
for  the  purpose  of  robbery,  but  this  was  abandoned  almost  as 
soon  as  formed.  Apparently  not  a  drawer  had  even  been 
opened.  The  silver  standing  upon  the  mantel  was  untouched, 
and  the  murdered  woman’s  jewelry,  some  of  which  was  of 
considerable  value,  had  not  been  disturbed.  But  other  traces 
of  the  awful  deed  were  not  wanting.  In  a  room  in  the  rear  of 
the  apartment  where  the  body  was  discovered,  which  had 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE 


97 


been  formerly  occupied  by  the  dead  woman’s  son,  Irving 
Latimer,  there  were  blood  stains  upon  the  carpet  and  on  the 
white  counterpane  of  the  bed,  and  also  on  the  thumb-screw  of 
the  gas  burner  and  the  handle  of  the  door.  In  this  room  also 
was  found  a  silk  handkerchief  which  had  been  apparently  used 
in  strangling  the  lady,  still  moist  with  blood. 

Such  a  crime  would  horrify  the  entire  population  of  the 
largest  city  in  the  world,  and  in  Jackson,  where  Mrs.  Latimer 
had  been  generally  known  and  universally  respected,  an 
intense  excitement  was  created  by  its  discovery,  and  the  deep¬ 
est  sympathy  was  expressed  for  young  Latimer.  He  had  gone 
to  Detroit  on  the  day  before  the  commission  of  the  murder, 
but,  being  notified  by  the  chief  of  police  of  the  tragedy,  at 
once  returned  home.  Although  not  a  breath  of  suspicion  had 
as  yet  attached  to  him,  his  bearing  attracted  attention.  He 
seemed  to  manifest  little  concern,  and,  on  his  way  from  the 
railway  depot  to  the  family  residence,  conversed  carelessly 
with  a  companion  upon  a  number  of  indifferent  topics.  But 
as  he  approached  the  house  where  groups  of  sad-faced  people 
were  discussing  the  tragedy  and  certain  to  observe  his  actions, 
his  demeanor  underwent  a  radical  change;  he  walked  with 
bowed  head,  while  tears  coursed  down  his  face.  To  such  as 
spoke  to  him  he  expressed  himself  as  being  inexpressibly 
grieved  and  shocked  at  the  terrible  affliction  which  had  over¬ 
taken  him.  To  the  officers  who  sympathetically  accompanied 
him  to  the  chamber  where  the  remains  of  his  mother  had  been 
decorously  laid  out,  he  swore  a  solemn  oath  that  he  would 
never  rest  until  he  had  discovered  and  brought  to  justice  the 
perpetrators  of  the  brutal  crime  which  had  deprived  him  of 
the  best  friend  he  had  on  earth. 

It  is  always  easy  to  form  theories  after  the  secret  is  out, 
and  those  who  were  present  at  this  scene  afterwards  recalled 
that  his  tone  and  manner  had  seemed  to  lack  something  of 
sincerity.  He  eagerly  assented  to  the  suggestion  that  the 
murder  had  been  committed  by  a  burglar,  and  at  once  set 
about  ransacking  all  the  drawers  and  closets  with  the  ostensible 
hope  of  finding  some  evidence  in  confirmation  of  this  theory. 
He  conducted  the  search  hastily  and  clumsily,  and  when  he 


98 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


had  completed  it  declared  that  a  pocketbook  and  certain 
articles  of  jewelry  belonging  to  his  mother  were  missing.  His 
attention  being  directed  to  the  fact  that  many  valuable  articles 
in  plain  sight  had  been  left  undisturbed,  he  had  no  explanation 
to  offer.  These  circumstances,  considered  in  connection  with 
some  of  his  subsequent  actions,  finally  directed  suspicion 
toward  him.  Accordingly,  an  investigation  into  his  conduct  and 
movements  immediately  prior  to  the  murder  was  set  on  foot. 

It  was  at  once  suggested  that  Irving  was  the  only  person 
who  could  possibly  benefit  by  the  death  of  Mrs.  Latimer,  he 
being  her  sole  heir,  and  it  was  soon  learned  that  he  was  deeply 
in  debt  and  being  hard  pressed  by  his  creditors.  It  was  fur¬ 
ther  discovered  that,  although  individually  without  resources, 
he  had  promised  to  make  several  large  payments  on  the  very 
day  when  the  body  was  discovered.  An  examination  as  to  his 
whereabouts  on  the  night  of  the  murder  disclosed  some 
exceedingly  damaging  evidence  against  him.  As  already 
stated,  he  had  gone  to  Detroit  the  day  before  the  discovery, 
professedly  on  business,  where  he  had  registered  at  the  Gris¬ 
wold  House. 

His  conduct,  both  at  the  hotel  and  upon  the  streets,  had 
been  that  of  a  man  anxious  to  render  himself  conspicuous. 
He  had  lounged  about  a  number  of  saloons  and  had  visited 
one  or  two  disreputable  resorts.  About  nine  o’clock  in  the 
evening  he  called  at  the  hotel  office  for  the  key  of  his  room, 
and  ostentatiously  announced  that  he  was  going  to  bed.  His  bed 
was  found  the  next  morning  in  disorder,  but  it  was  learned 
that  instead  of  seeking  his  couch,  he  had  returned  to  Jackson, 
at  which  place  he  had  boarded  an  early  morning  train  on  his 
return  trip  to  Detroit.  A  train  hand  was  found  who  recog¬ 
nized  him  as  a  man  to  whom  his  attention  had  been  partic¬ 
ularly  directed  b}^  his  evident  desire  to  escape  observation ;  his 
coat  collar  being  turned  up  and  his  head  kept  well  forward  on 
his  breast.  An  inquiry  into  his  actions  after  returning  to 
Detroit  showed  that  he  had  visited  a  barber  shop  in  the  neigh¬ 
borhood  of  the  Griswold  House  shortly  after  his  train  reached 
that  city.  The  man  who  waited  on  him  noticed  a  large  spot 

of  blood  upon  the  left  sleeve  of  his  coat,  and  directed  his 

* 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE 


99 


attention  thereto.  Latimer  exhibited  great  nervousness  and 
surprise,  uttered  a  peculiar  exclamation,  and  immediately  set 
about  attempting  to  wash  it  off  with  water  and  soap.  The 
barber  afterward  noticed  other  blood  stains  on  his  clothes,  but 
was  too  frightened  and  too  much  excited  to  say  anything  about 
them.  Upon  his  return  to  his  hotel  he  at  once  repaired  to  his 
room,  the  door  of  which  the  chambermaid  saw  him  unlock. 
She  had  noticed  the  condition  of  the  bed,  and  had  been  satis¬ 
fied  that  the  disarrangement  of  the  bed-clothes  had  not  been 
caused  by  any  one  sleeping  in  it  through  the  night. 

These  discoveries  pointed  so  plainly  to  Latimer  as  his 
mother’s  murderer  that  he  was  placed  under  arrest.  After 
being  locked  in  a  cell  he  was  seen  trying  to  conceal  a  pair  of 
socks,  a  circumstance  which  resulted  in  his  being  required  to 
give  up  all  his  clothing.  The  socks  which  he  had  been  seek¬ 
ing  to  hide  were  deeply  stained  with  blood,  as  were  also  his 
trousers  and  coat.  When  called  upon  to  account  for  the 
stains  upon  his  socks,  he  said  that  the  blood  had  come  from  a 
recent  operation  for  corns  upon  his  feet.  His  feet  did  indeed 
show  scars,  but  it  was  easy  to  see  that  they  were  not  of  recent 
origin,  and  even  if  he  had  cut  his  corns  himself,  as  he 
claimed,  it  was  palpably  absurd  that  he  should  have  drawn  on 
his  socks  while  his  feet  were  yet  bleeding;  but  even  suppos¬ 
ing  that  he  had  done  so,  it  was  certain  that  he  could  not  have 
lost  enough  blood  from  this  cause  to  produce  the  observed 
effect.  Moreover,  a  close  examination  of  his  patent-leather 
shoes  disclosed  that  they  too  were  stained  with  blood.  From 
all  these  circumstances  it  was  inferred  that  young  Latimer  had 
entered  his  mother’s  room  in  his  stocking  feet,  and  after 
doing  his  bloody  work  had  been  in  such  haste  to  catch  the 
earliest  train  for  Detroit  that  he  had  drawn  on  his  shoes  with¬ 
out  either  drying  or  changing  his  socks.  While  lying  in 
prison,  he  told  innumerable  lies,  but  of  such  a  contradictory 
character  as  to  rivet  yet  more  firmly  the  links  in  the  chain  of 
evidence  which  was  to  drag  him  to  his  doom. 

Popular  indignation  against  the  prisoner  was  at  fever  heat, 
and  threats  of  lynching  were  freely  and  openly  made.  It  was 
even  said  that  he  had  been  guilty  of  poisoning  his  father,  who 


100 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


had  died  suddenly  and  under  peculiar  circumstances,  leaving 
policies  of  insurance  upon  his  life  amounting  to  sixteen  thou¬ 
sand  dollars,  under  some  of  which  Irving  was  a  beneficiary. 

The  testimony  against  him,  while  wholly  circumstantial, 
was  too  strong  to  admit  of  any  reasonable  doubt  as  to  his 
guilt.  He  was  convicted  and  sentenced  to  imprisonment  in 
the  state  penitentiary  during  the  term  of  his  natural  life,  that 
being  the  most  extreme  penalty  then  known  to  the  criminal 
code  of  Michigan. 

The  story  of  this  monstrous  crime  properly  ends  here,  but 
a  few  lines  as  to  the  murderer’s  career  in  prison  may  prove 
interesting  and  instructive,  as  showing  the  ingenuity  of  the 
condemned  and  the  light  estimate  he  placed  upon  human  life. 
A  good  conversationalist  and  of  most  engaging  manners,  he 
succeeded  in  ingratiating  himself  with  several  of  the  officials 
of  the  prison,  the  discipline  of  which  seems  to  have  been 
remarkably  lax.  Latimer  was  permitted  to  indulge  in  various 
delicacies,  such  as  chocolate  and  lemonade,  the  materials  for 
making  which  he  kept  in  his  cell.  He  was  allowed  the  free¬ 
dom  of  the  corridors  at  unusual  hours,  and  often  treated  the 
keepers  on  duty.  He  told  a  most  seductive  fairy  story  of  a 
large  sum  of  money  that  had  been  buried  by  his  father  on  a 
small  island  off  the  coast  of  Rhode  Island,  and  promised  to 
give  one  of  his  keepers,  who  was  about  to  leave  the  prison,  a 
diagram  that  would  enable  him  to  locate  and  secure  it.  In 
this  way  he  gradually  gained  the  confidence  of  the  turnkeys. 
One  night,  some  three  years  after  his  incarceration,  he  gave 
his  keepers  some  lemonade,  which,  thanks  to  his  chemical 
knowledge,  and  the  possession  of  poison  which  he  had  some¬ 
how  managed  to  secure,  probably  from  the  prison  laboratory 
to  which  he  had  access,  he  was  able  to  convert  into  a  death¬ 
dealing  beverage.  All  the  officers  were  prostrated,  and  one 
of  them  almost  immediately  expired.  In  the  confusion, 
Latimer  secured  a  bunch  of  keys  and  made  good  his  escape. 
A  few  days  later  he  was  apprehended  while  endeavoring  to 
purchase  a  pair  of  shoes  in  a  small  Michigan  village,  and 
returned  to  the  prison,  where,  at  the  present  writing,  he  still 
remains. 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE 


IOI 


At  the  time  of  the  commission  of  this  most  revolting  crime, 
Latimer  was  less  than  twenty-four  years  of  age.  He  was  well 
educated,  and  a  chemist  by  profession.  He  had  ample  means 
to  support  himself,  but  fell  a  victim  to  those  quadruple  evils 
suggested  in  the  old  rhyme : 

“  Women  and  wine,  game  and  deceit, 

Make  the  wealth  small,  the  want  great.” 

Excesses  had  plunged  him  into  debt  and  so  perverted  his 
nature  that  the  gratification  of  his  passions  became  the  one 
motive  of  his  life. 

Although  we  have  classified  this  case  as  matricide,  in  a 
strict  sense  it  does  not  fall  within  the  category.  Having  lost 
an  only  child,  an  infant  son,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Latimer  adopted  a 
boy  in  Rhode  Island.  They  knew  his  father  had  been  a 
criminal,  yet  they  fancied  they  saw  a  resemblance  to  their 
dead  child,  and  disregarded  the  theory  of  the  transmission  of 
criminal  impulses  by  heredity.  These  facts  were  not  made 
known  until  after  the  death  of  Mrs.  Latimer.  Irving  Latimer 
had  not  the  slightest  intimation  of  his  real  parentage,  and 
took  her  life  believing  that  she  was  the  woman  to  whom  he 
owed  his  existence.  Thus,  so  far  as  he  was  concerned,  the 
crime  was  that  of  matricide. 

“Like  mother,  like  son,”  is  a  fairly  safe  adage  to  quote,  and 
it  will  be  something  of  a  relief  to  the  reader  to  know  that  so 
good  a  woman  as  Mrs.  Latimer  surely  was  did  not  give  birth 
to  the  unnatural  monster  who  so  barbarously  took  her  life. 
On  the  other  hand,  his  criminal  instincts  may  well  be  traced  to 
his  depraved  father. 


CHAPTER  VII 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE  — THE  WEBSTER- 

PARKMAN  CASE 

On  Friday,  November  23,  1849,  Doctor  George  Parkman,  a 
wealthy  and  highly  respected  citizen  of  Boston,  and  one  of  the 
founders  of  the  Massachusetts  Medical  College  of  that  city, 
suddenly  disappeared  from  view.  Dr.  Parkman,  who  was 
about  sixty  years  of  age,  and  a  man  of  very  active  habits,  had 
been  about  the  city  during  that  day,  attending  to  his  business  as 
usual.  Almost  the  last  trace  discovered  of  him  was  at  a  green¬ 
grocer’s,  where  he  had  purchased  some  lettuce  for  an  invalid 
daughter.  He  was  noted  for  his  great  punctuality,  and  his 
absence  from  the  family  table  at  the  regular  hour  for  dinner, 
half-past  three  o’clock,  excited  surprise  and  some  uneasiness, 
which  increased  to  positive  alarm  when  he  did  not  appear  in 
the  evening.  The  following  day  a  most  systematic  search  was 
instituted  for  the  missing  gentleman,  which  was  stimulated  by 
the  offer  of  liberal  rewards  for  his  discovery,  and  extended  to 
a  distance  of  from  fifty  to  sixty  miles  from  the  city. 

On  the  Sunday  following  the  disappearance  it  was  learned 
that  Dr.  Parkman  had,  on  November  23d,  met  by  appointment 
Dr.  John  W.  Webster,  Professor  of  Chemistry  in  the  Harvard 
University,  Cambridge,  and  lecturer  on  chemistry  in  the 
Medical  College,  Boston,  in  the  rooms  of  the  latter  in  the  col¬ 
lege.  This  information  was  furnished  by  Dr.  Webster  himself, 
who  appeared  to  have  been  the  last  person  who  had  seen  Dr. 
Parkman. 

To  the  Rev.  Dr.  Francis  Parkman,  a  brother  of  the  miss¬ 
ing  man,  of  whose  church  Dr.  Webster  had  at  one  time  been  a 
member,  he  made  substantially  the  following  statement:  He 
was  indebted  to  Dr.  Parkman  and  had  called  on  him  on  Friday 
morning,  November  23d,  and  arranged  that  Parkman  should 


102 


THE  WEBSTER-PARKMAN  CASE 


103 


call  upon  him  that  afternoon  at  half-past  one,  which  he  accord¬ 
ingly  did,  carrying  some  papers  in  his  hand.  Without  delay, 
Webster  had  handed  his  visitor  $483,  and  some  odd  cents. 
Upon  receiving  it,  Dr.  Parkman  took  a  note  from  among  the 
papers  in  his  hand,  dashed  a  pen  through  the  signature  of  Dr. 
Webster,  handed  it  to  that  gentleman  and  hurriedly  quitted  the 
room,  after  remarking  that  he  would  have  the  mortgage 
cancelled.  It  was  also  learned  that,  on  the  previous  Monday, 
Dr.  Parkman  had,  in  the  college  building,  upbraided  Professor 
Webster  for  not  paying  him  the  money,  had  accused  him  of 
disposing  of  a  portion  of  the  property — a  cabinet  of  minerals 
— upon  which  he  held  a  mortgage,  and  remarked  in  con¬ 
clusion,  “Something  must  be  done  to-morrow.” 

In  the  meantime,  every  clue  that  was  discovered  led  to  the 
Medical  College  and  terminated  there;  no  one  being  found 
who  had  seen  the  missing  man  after  his  interview  with  Pro¬ 
fessor  Webster.  Two  examinations  of  the  college  were  made, 
one  on  Monday,  which  was  a  mere  matter  of  form  to  serve  as 
an  excuse  for  searching  other  buildings,  and  another  on  the 
next  day.  Neither  of  these  searches  led  to  the  slightest  dis¬ 
covery. 

While  this  was  being  done,  one  man  had  serious  suspicions 
which  led  to  the  ultimate  discovery  of  an  awful  crime.  This 
man  was  the  janitor  of  the  college,  Littlefield  by  name.  He 
began  a  systematic  espionage  upon  the  movements  of  Pro¬ 
fessor  Webster,  and  upon  Friday,  November  30th,  discovered  in 
the  laboratory,  and  a  vault  connected  with  it,  certain  human 
remains,  which  he  at  once  concluded  to  be  those  of  Dr.  George 
Parkman.  The  discovery  was  effected  in  the  following  man¬ 
ner  :  Besides  apartments  on  the  first  floor  of  the  building,  con¬ 
sisting  of  a  lecture  room  with  a  laboratory  behind  it  provided 
with  a  stove,  water  and  sink,  Dr.  Webster  had,  on  the  base¬ 
ment  floor,  another  laboratory,  reached  by  a  stairway  from  the 
upper  one,  containing  an  assay  furnace  and  also  provided  with 
running  water  and  a  sink.  Connected  with  this  laboratory 
was  a  private  closet,  with  an  opening  into  a  vault  at  the  base 
of  the  building,  into  which  the  sea  water  was  admitted.  Into 
this  vault  there  was  no  opening  other  than  that  from  the 


104 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


private  closet.  When  all  other  parts  of  the  college  had  been 
examined  without  results,  Littlefield  resolved  to  investigate 
this  vault.  Choosing  those  times  for  his  work  when  Professor 
Webster  was  not  about  the  premises,  the  janitor  broke  a  hole 
through  the  brick  and  mortar  wall,  at  a  point  below  the  closet. 
No  sooner  was  the  opening  completed  than  the  horrified 
Littlefield  discovered  within  the  vault  parts  of  a  male  human 
body.  These  consisted  of  the  pelvis — the  hip  bones — the  right 
thigh  from  the  hip  to  the  knee,  and  the  left  leg  from  the  knee 
to  the  ankle. 

As  a  matter  of  course,  these  fearfully  incriminating  dis¬ 
coveries  led  to  Dr.  Webster’s  immediate  apprehension.  A 
more  minute  examination  of  the  premises  was  at  once  made, 
which  led  to  further  disclosures.  In  a  tea-chest,  buried  in  tan- 
bark  and  covered  with  specimens  of  minerals,  were  found  a 
large  hunting-knife,  a  thorax — chest — with  both  clavicles  and 
scapulae  attached,  and  having  a  perforation  in  the  region  of 
the  heart,  and  a  left  thigh,  to  which  was  tied  a  piece  of  string. 

Examined  by  experts  in  the  college,  these  parts  were 
decided  to  belong  to  one  human  body,  there  being  no  dupli¬ 
cates  and  all  fitting  together.  By  means  of  measurements  and 
calculations,  they  were  determined  to  have  belonged  to  a  man 
about  five  feet  ten  and  a  half  inches  in  height,  which  corre¬ 
sponded  closely  with  that  of  the  missing  Dr.  Parkman. 

Among  the  ashes  of  the  furnace  were  found  a  pearl  shirt 
button ;  a  human  tooth  with  a  hole  in  it,  which  appeared  to 
have  been  once  filled;  about  two  hundred  grains  of  gold; 
three  blocks  of  mineral  teeth,  and  a  large  number  of  frag¬ 
ments  of  bone  belonging  to  the  skull,  face,  neck,  hands  and 
other  portions  of  a  human  body. 

The  trial  of  John  W.  Webster  was  held  in  Boston,  before 
the  Hon.  Samuel  S.  Shaw,  Chief  Justice,  and  three  associate 
justices  of  the  Supreme  Judicial  Court  of  Massachusetts.  It 
began  on  March  19,  1850,  and  continued  for  eleven  days,  one 
hundred  and  sixteen  witnesses  being  examined,  forty-seven  of 
these  being  in  behalf  of  the  accused.  To  say  that  this  trial 
excited  intense  interest  would  very  mildly  express  the  situa¬ 
tion.  The  public  was  almost  crazed,  and  business  at  Boston, 


/ 


THE  WEBSTER-PARKMAN  CASE 


IOS 

and  quite  generally  throughout  New  England,  was  well-nigh 
suspended.  Dr.  Parkman  had  been  widely  known,  and  his 
figure  was  a  familiar  one  to  nearly  every  inhabitant  of  Boston. 
With  Dr.  Webster  the  public  was  still  better  acquainted;  he 
was  on  terms  of  intimacy  with  the  most  celebrated  men  in  the 
country,  and  was  everywhere  most  highly  esteemed.  He  had 
been  a  professor  of  chemistry  for  twenty  years,  possessed  a 
very  fine  scientific  library,  and  one  of  the  most  complete 
musical  libraries  of  America.  That  such  a  man  could  have 
been  guilty  of  a  brutal  murder,  followed  by  revolting  attempts 
at  concealment,  the  public  quite  generally  refused  to  believe 
possible.  It  is  undoubtedly  true  that  no  crime  in  the  annals 
of  this  country  has  ever  attracted  such  general  and  long- 
sustained  interest. 

Space  does  not  permit  a  presentation  of  more  than  a  bare 
outline  of  the  mass  of  evidence  introduced  in  this  strongly 
contested  case.  Depending  entirely  upon  a  large  number  of 
circumstances  which  were  so  dovetailed  together  as  to  present 
an  almost  unbroken  chain,  connecting  the  accused  directly 
with  the  crime,  the  case  for  the  State  was  the  most  remark¬ 
able  array  of  circumstantial  evidence  ever  presented  in  this 
country. 

The  height,  indicated  by  the  remains,  was  exactly  that  of 
Dr.  Parkman.  The  time  of  life  was  proven  to  be  similar. 
Dr.  Parkman  had  a  prominent  rising  chin,  and  the  bones  pre¬ 
sented  that  peculiarity.  The  left  side  of  the  lower  jaw  showed 
a  remarkable  irregularity,  which  a  dentist  who  had  made 
artificial  teeth  for  Dr.  Parkman,  swore  existed  in  his  jaw. 

But  the  most  satisfactory  identification  of  the  remains  was 
furnished  by  the  three  blocks  of  mineral  teeth,  already 
referred  to  as  having  been  found  in  the  laboratory  furnace. 
These  were  positively  identified  by  Dr.  Nathan  Keep,  a  Boston 
dentist,  as  having  been  made  by  him  for  Dr.  Parkman  in 
October  and  November,  1846.  The  testimony  of  Dr.  Keep 
was  remarkable  for  its  detail,  and  was  given  in  part  from 
memory  and  in  part  from  certain  memoranda  kept  by  all 
dentists.  He  produced  in  court  the  original  models  from 
which  the  gold  plates  were  made,  which  showed  irregularities 


io6 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


corresponding  to  those  indicated  by  the  jawbones  of  the 
remains.  The  identification  was  full  and  complete,  and  was 
not  impaired  to  the  smallest  extent  by  a  long  and  most  severe 
cross-examination. 

Dr.  Keep’s  assistant,  Dr.  Lester  Noble,  corroborated  his 
testimony  in  many  particulars.  It  was  also  shown  that  there 
are  peculiarities  in  the  work  of  every  dentist  which  make  it  as 
easy  for  him  to  identify  it  as  for  an  artist  to  make  sure  that  he 
has  painted  a  certain  picture. 

Dr.  Keep  testified  that  when  Dr.  Parkman  ordered  the  teeth 
he  asked  if  they  could  be  completed  by  a  certain  time,  saying 
that  unless  they  could  be  he  did  not  want  them.  The  reason 
for  this  was  that  the  Massachusetts  Medical  College  was  about 
to  be  opened  with  some  inaugural  ceremonies,  on  a  stated  day. 
He  was  one  of  the  endowers  of  the  institution,  having 
donated  the  land  upon  which  it  was  built,  and  thought  it 
possible  that  he  might  have  to  make  some  remarks  upon  the 
occasion.  The  work  was  completed  with  some  difficulty,  and 
was  only  ready  a  few  minutes  before  the  doctor  called  for  it 
on  his  way  to  the  college.  It  seems  a  remarkable  coincidence 
that  these  teeth  should  have  been  ordered  for  the  opening  of  a 
college  towards  which  Dr.  Parkman  had  contributed  liberally, 
and  where  he  was  afterwards  murdered,  and  that  they  should 
prove  the  chief  evidence  by  which  his  mangled  and  half- 
burned  remains  were  positively  identified.  In  a  novel,  such 
a  combination  would  almost  be  thought  overdrawn. 

A  number  of  medical  men  of  great  prominence  testified  for 
the  State  on  questions  looking  to  the  identification  of  the 
remains,  among  them  being  Dr.  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes, 
long  eminent  both  as  a  physician  and  poet.  At  the  time  of 
the  trial  he  was  Parkman  Professor  of  Anatomy  and  Physi¬ 
ology  in  Harvard  University,  the  professorship  having  been  so 
named  in  honor  of  Dr.  George  Parkman. 

The  evidence  connecting  Professor  Webster  with  the  crime, 
while  entirely  of  a  circumstantial  character,  was  so  complete 
and  full  as  to  leave  no  reasonable  doubt  in  the  mind  of  any 
candid  and  unbiased  person  as  to  his  guilt.  It  was  shown 
that  after  the  disappearance  of  Dr.  Parkman  he  ordered  that 


THE  WEBSTER-PARKMAN  CASE 


107 


no  fire  be  built  in  his  rooms,  and  yet  that  he  had  a  fire  and  was 
there  during  much  longer  hours  than  usual,  including  Sunday, 
a  very  unusual  thing  with  him.  He  instructed  an  express- 
man,  named  Sawin,  to  bring  him  some  fagots  and  a  quantity 
of  tan-bark  to  the  college,  and  leave  them  in  the  janitor’s 
cellar.  Always  before  Sawin  had  left  articles  in  the  profes¬ 
sor’s  rooms.  This  order  was  given  on  the  Monday  after  the 
disappearance.  When  it  is  remembered  that  a  portion  of  the 
body  was  found  packed  in  tan-bark,  the  importance  of  the 
point  becomes  apparent.  The  statement  made  by  the  defend¬ 
ant  that  he  had  paid  nearly  five  hundred  dollars  to  Dr.  Park- 
man  on  the  last  day  he  was  seen  alive  proved  a  most 
unfortunate  one,  since  he  was  unable  to  show  where  he  had 
procured  the  money.  Dr.  Webster’s  position  in  the  medical 
college  was  entirely  distinct  from  his  professorship  in  the 
University  of  Cambridge.  In  the  former  institution,  his  com¬ 
pensation  consisted  of  tickets  which  he  sold  to  students  for 
his  lectures.  This  money  was  coming  in  at  the  time,  and  it 
was  from  this  source  that  he  promised  to  pay  Dr.  Parkman. 
Yet  it  was  shown  that  all  this  money,  with  the  exception  of 
$90,  which  he  deposited  in  a  bank  after  that  fatal  Friday,  had 
been  expended  elsewhere.  This  $90  he  received  from  his 
ticket-seller  on  the  morning  of  the  murder.  The  doctor  told 
this  man  that  he  had  paid  Dr.  Parkman,  and  that  there  would 
be  no  further  trouble. 

Dr.  Webster  was  arrested  at  his  home  in  Cambridge,  on 
the  evening  of  November  30,  just  one  week  after  the  murder 
of  Dr.  Parkman.  He  was  told  that  they  wished  him  to  come 
to  the  college  in  the  city,  and  did  not  know  that  he  was  under 
arrest  until  actually  inside  the  jail.  He  broke  down  and  acted 
in  a  most  distressing  manner,  the  officers  deposing  that  they 
had  never  seen  a  man  laboring  under  such  intense  excitement. 
It  afterwards  transpired  that  he  was  suffering  from  the  effects 
of  poison,  taken  with  suicidal  intent.  Later,  he  was  removed 
to  the  college  and  shown  the  remains  which  were  spread  out 
upon  a  table.  It  required  the  strength  of  two  men  to  support 
him  during  this  ordeal.  Here  he  made  a  remark  that  sug¬ 
gests  the  famous  case  of  Eugene  Aram,  set  forth  elsewhere  in 


108  MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 

this  volume.  “Those  bones,”  said  he,  “are  no  more  Dr. 
Parkman’s  than  they  are  mine.”  Other  points  of  resemblance 
between  these  two  prominent  cases  are  found  in  the  circum¬ 
stance  that  both  men  were  of  marked  intellectual  ability  and 
widely  known  as  authors  and  men  of  great  attainments ;  that 
neither  is  generally  believed  to  have  been  a  deliberate  mur¬ 
derer;  that  both,  before  conviction,  maintained  their  entire 
innocence  and  attempted  suicide;  that  each  addressed  the  jury 
in  his  own  behalf,  and  afterwards  made  a  written  confession. 

While  in  jail,  the  accused  man  wrote  one  of  his  daughters  a 
letter  in  which  he  asked  her  to  tell  her  mother  not  to  open  a 
certain  little  packet,  which  he  described.  The  letter  was  read 
by  the  authorities  and  the  packet  secured.  It  was  found  to 
contain  the  two  notes  given  by  Webster  to  Parkman,  with  a 
heavy  pen  mark  across  the  signature  of  the  former.  Before 
the  arrest  of  Dr.  Webster,  three  letters,  written  in  a  scrawling 
hand,  and  tending  to  throw  the  authorities  off  the  track, 
were  addressed  to  Francis  Tukey,  City  Marshal  of  Boston. 
These  were  shown  to  be  in  the  handwriting  of  Professor 
Webster.  The  point  was  strongly  combated  by  the  defense, 
but  was  so  well  established  as  to  make  a  strong  impression 
upon  the  jury.  The  defendant  subsequently  admitted  that  he 
had  written  one  of  the  letters.  In  all  probability  he  was  the 
author  of  all  three.  There  were  many  other  points  adduced ; 
such  as  blood  stains  upon  the  defendant’s  clothing  and  slippers, 
the  presence  of  chemicals,  probably  used  in  effacing  blood 
marks  and  treating  portions  of  the  remains,  together  with  his 
peculiar  bearing  during  the  week  between  the  homicide  and 
his  arrest. 

The  defense,  while  somewhat  ingenious,  was,  as  in  the 
nature  of  things  it  needs  must  be,  decidedly  weak.  It  con¬ 
sisted  largely  of  an  array  of  witnesses,  some  of  them  of  great 
prominence,  who  swore  to  the  excellent  character  of  the  ac¬ 
cused.  Indeed,  the  principal  efforts  of  his  counsel  were  directed 
to  this  matter  and  to  convince  the  jury  that  a  man  of  Dr. 
Webster’s  high  character  was  quite  incapable  of  committing 
such  a  diabolical  deed.  As  to  the  presence  within  the  precincts 
of  the  premises  occupied  exclusively  by  the  defendant,  of  the 


THE  WEBSTER-PARKMAN  CASE  109 


remains,  no  explanation  was  offered,  the  theory  being-  that  they 
were  placed  there  by  some  one  who  had  access  to  the  place.  The 
tendency  of  this  was  to  throw  suspicion  upon  and  discredit  the 
testimony  of  Littlefield,  the  janitor,  through  whose  efforts  the 
crime  was  first  discovered.  Neither  did  they  explain  from 
what  source  the  professor  had  obtained  the  money  he  claimed 
to  have  paid  Dr.  Parkman  on  the  day  of  the  latter’s  disappear¬ 
ance,  except  to  say  that  he  had  been  accumulating  it  for  some 
time. 

Counsel  for  the  defendant  made  a  most  vigorous  attack 
upon  all  the  evidence  of  the  State  as  being  circumstantial,  and 
hence  unreliable.  The  prosecution  accepted  this  issue,  and 
the  debate  is  one  of  great  interest  and  decided  value  to  the 
legal  fraternity.  Before  delivering  his  charge  to  the  jury, 
Chief- Justice  Shaw  asked  the  prisoner  if  he  had  anything  to 
add  to  what  his  counsel  had  said  in  his  behalf.  Against  the 
decided  protests  of  his  attorneys,  Professor  Webster  arose,  and 
with  great  apparent  composure  and  decided  earnestness, 
addressed  the  jury,  speaking  for  nearly  half  an  hour.  His 
speech  was  principally  confined  to  questions  of  fact  and  solemn 
protestations  of  his  innocence.  As  to  the  fact  that  he  had 
maintained  great  calmness  during  the  trial,  he  said:  “It  has 
been  said  that  I  have  been  calm.  If  I  have  seemed  so,  I  have 
not  been  conscious  of  it.  My  counsel  have  pressed  me  to  keep 
as  calm  as  possible ;  and  my  very  calmness  has  been  brought 
to  bear  against  me.  In  one  sense  I  have  been  calm ;  my  trust 
has  been  in  my  God,  and  in  my  innocence.’’  It  should  be 
understood  that  at  this  time  a  prisoner  could  not  testify  in  his 
own  behalf  in  Massachusetts. 

After  a  very  fair  and  comprehensive  charge  by  the  court, 
the  jury  retired,  and  in  three  hours  returned  a  verdict  of 
guilty.  On  Monday,  April  1st,  Chief- Justice  Shaw,  in  a  most 
impressive  manner,  sentenced  Dr.  Webster  to  death.  Great 
efforts  were  made  to  save  the  life  of  the  condemned.  An 
appeal  was  taken,  and  the  case  argued  in  a  manner  that  has 
made  it  one  of  the  leading  authorities  in  American  law  on  the 
question  of  circumstantial  evidence.  An  appeal  for  a  com¬ 
mutation  of  sentence  to  imprisonment  having  proved  ineffec- 


no 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


tual,  the  condemned  man  was  executed  in  Boston  on  the  30th 
day  of  August,  1850. 

Before  the  application  for  the  writ  of  error,  and  about  three 
weeks  after  the  verdict,  an  application  was  made  to  Hon. 
George  N.  Briggs,  Governor  of  Massachusetts  and  the  Council 
of  the  State,  for  a  re-hearing  of  the  case.  In  his  petition  Dr. 
Webster  asserted  his  innocence  in  the  most  positive  terms. 
Among  other  things  he  subscribed  to  the  following: 

“To  Him  who  seeth  in  secret,  and  before  whom  I  may  ere 
long  be  called  to  appear,  would  I  appeal  for  the  truth  of  what 
I  now  declare,  as  also  for  the  truth  of  the  solemn  declaration 
that  I  had  no  agency  in  placing  the  remains  of  a  human  body 
in  or  under  my  rooms  in  the  Medical  College  in  Boston,  nor 
do  I  know  by  whom  they  were  so  placed.  I  am  the  victim  of 
circumstances,  or  a  foul  conspiracy,  or  of  the  attempt  of  some 
individual  to  cause  suspicion  to  fall  upon  me,  influenced  per¬ 
haps  by  the  prospect  of  obtaining  a  large  reward.” 

Before  this  petition  was  acted  upon  the  court  decided 
adversely  to  his  application  for  a  writ  of  error,  whereupon  Dr. 
Webster  withdrew  his  petition  to  the  Governor,  and  filed 
another  one,  asking  for  clemency.  In  this  he  gave  the  lie  to 
his  previous  solemn  statement  and  confessed  that  he  had  killed 
Dr.  Parkman.  It  was  quite  a  long  statement,  but  the  salient 
points,  so  far  as  the  commission  of  the  crime  and  the  disposi¬ 
tion  of  the  body  are  concerned,  are  as  follows : 

“Tuesday,  the  20th  of  November,  I  sent  a  note  to  Dr. 
Parkman,  asking  him  to  call  at  my  rooms  Friday,  the  23d, 
after  my  lecture.  He  had  become  of  late  very  importunate 
for  his  pay.  He  had  threatened  me  with  a  suit;  to  put  an 
officer  in  my  house.  The  purport  of  my  note  was  simply  to 
ask  the  conference.  I  did  not  tell  him  in  it  what  I  could 
do,  or  what  I  had  to  say  about  the  payment.  I  wished  to  gain 
for  those  few  days  a  release  from  his  solicitations,  to  which  I 
was  liable  every  day,  upon  occasions  and  in  a  manner  very 
disagreeable  and  alarming  to  me,  and  also  to  omit,  for  so 
long  a  time  at  least,  the  fulfillment  of  recent  threats  of  severe 
measures.  I  did  not  expect  to  pay  him  when  Friday  should 
arrive. 


THE  WEBSTER-P  ARKMAN  CASE 


in 


“My  purpose  was,  if  he  should  accede  to  the  proposed 
interview,  to  state  to  him  my  embarrassment  and  utter  inabil¬ 
ity  to  pay  him  at  present,  to  apologize  for  those  things  in  my 
conduct  which  had  offended  him,  to  throw  myself  upon  his 
mercy,  to  beg  for  further  time  and  indulgence  for  the  sake  of 
my  family,  if  not  for  myself,  and  to  make  as  good  promises  to 
him  as  I  could  have  any  hope  of  keeping.  I  did  not  hear  from 
him  that  day,  nor  the  next  (Wednesday) ;  but  I  found  that 
Thursday  he  had  been  abroad  in  pursuit  of  me,  though  with¬ 
out  finding  me.  I  feared  he  had  forgotten  the  appointment, 
or  else  did  not  mean  to  wait  for  it.  I  feared  he  would  come 
in  upon  me  at  my  lecture  hour,  or  while  I  was  preparing  my 
experiments  for  it.  Therefore,  I  called  at  his  house  that 
morning  (Friday),  between  eight  and  nine  to  remind  him  of 
my  wish  to  see  him  at  the  college  at  half-past  one — my  lecture 
closing  at  one.  I  did  not  then  stop  to  talk  with  him,  for  I 
expected  the  conversation  would  be  a  long  one,  and  I  had  my 
lecture  to  prepare  for.  Dr.  Parkman  agreed  to  call  on  me  as 
I  proposed.  He  came  accordingly,  between  half-past  one  and 
two.  He  came  in  at  the  lecture  room  door.  I  was  engaged 
in  removing  some  glasses  from  my  lecture  room  table  into  the 
room  at  the  rear,  called  the  upper  laboratory.  He  came 
rapidly  toward  me  and  followed  me  into  the  laboratory.  He 
immediately  addressed  me  with  great  energy:  ‘Are  you  ready, 
sir?  Have  you  got  the  money?’  I  replied:  ‘No,  Dr.  Park- 
man,’  and  was  beginning  to  make  my  appeal  to  him.  He 
would  not  listen  to  me,  but  interrupted  me  with  great  vehe¬ 
mence.  He  called  me  a  ‘scoundrel,’  ‘liar,’  and  went  on  heaping 
upon  me  the  most  bitter  taunts  and  opprobrious  epithets. 

“While  he  was  talking  he  drew  from  his  pocket  a  handful  of 
papers,  and  took  from  them  my  two  notes,  and  also  an  old  letter 
from  Dr.  Hossah  congratulating  him  (Dr.  P.)  on  his  success  in 
getting  me  appointed  professor  of  chemistry.  ‘You  see,’  said 
he,  ‘I  got  you  into  your  office,  and  now  I  will  get  you  out  of  it.  ’ 
He  then  put  into  his  pocket  all  the  papers  except  the  letter 
and  the  two  notes.  I  cannot  tell  how  long  the  torrent  of 
threats  and  invectives  continued,  and  I  can  now  recall  but  a 
small  portion  of  what  he  said.  At  first  I  kept  interposing, 


I  12 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


trying  to  pacify  him,  so  that  I  might  obtain  the  object  for 
which  I  sought  the  interview.  But  I  could  not  stop  him,  and 
soon  my  own  temper  was  up.  I  forgot  everything.  I  felt 
nothing  but  the  sting  of  his  words.  I  was  excited  to  the  high¬ 
est  degree  of  passion,  and  while  he  was  speaking  and  gesticu¬ 
lating  in  the  most  violent  and  menacing  manner,  thrusting  the 
letter  and  his  fist  into  my  face,  in  my  fury  I  seized  whatever 
thing  was  handiest — it  was  a  stick  of  wood — and  dealt  him  an 
instantaneous  blow  with  all  the  force  that  passion  could  give 
it.  I  did  not  know,  nor  think,  nor  care,  where  I  should  hit 
him,  nor  how  hard,  nor  what  the  effect  would  be.  It  was  on 
the  side  of  his  head,  and  there  was  nothing  to  break  the  force 
of  the  blow.  He  fell  instantly  on  the  pavement.  There  was 
no  second  blow.  He  did  not  move.  I  stooped  over  him, 
and  he  seemed  to  be  lifeless.  Blood  flowed  from  his  mouth, 
and  I  got  a  sponge  and  wiped  it  away.  I  applied  restoratives, 
but  without  effect.  I  spent  perhaps  ten  minutes  in  my 
endeavor  to  resuscitate  him,  but  I  found  that  he  was  absolutely 
dead.  In  my  horror  and  consternation  I  ran  instinctively  to 
the  doors  and  bolted  them.  And  then  what  was  I  to  do?  It 
never  occurred  to  me  to  go  out  and  declare  what  I  had  done 
and  obtain  assistance.  I  saw  nothing  bu  the  alternative  of  a 
successful  removal  and  concealment  of  the  body  on  one  hand, 
and  of  infamy  and  destruction  on  the  othe  \ 

“The  first  thing  I  did,  as  soon  as  I  could  do  anything,  was 
to  drag  the  body  into  the  private  room  adjoining.  Then  I 
stripped  it  and  carefully  burned  the  clothes.  They  were  all 
consumed  there  that  afternoon,  with  pa^  ers,  pocketbook,  or 
whatever  else  they  might  have  contained.  I  did  not  examine 
the  pockets  or  remove  anything  except  the  watch.  That  I 
took  and  threw  over  the  bridge  as  I  went  home  to  Cambridge. 
My  next  move  was  to  get  the  body  into  the  sink,  which  stands 
in  a  small  private  room.  Then,  it  was  entirely  dismembered. 
It  was  quickly  done  as  a  work  of  terrible  and  desperate 
necessity.  The  only  instrument  used  was  the  knife  found  by 
the  officers  in  the  tea  chest,  and  which  I  kept  for  cutting  cork. 
While  dismembering  the  body  a  stream  of  water  was  kept 
running  through  the  sink,  thus  carrying  off  the  blood.  There 


DR.  WEBSTER  CONFRONTED  WITH  THE  REMAINS  OF  DR.  I’ARKM AN. — PAGE  107 


THE  WEBSTER-PARKMAN  CASE 


IJ3 


was  a  fire  burning  in  the  furnace  in  the  lower  laboratory, 
which  I  had  kindled  that  day  for  the  purpose  of  making 
oxygen  gas.  The  head  and  viscera  were  put  in  the  furnace 
that  day,  and  the  fuel  heaped  on.  Some  of  the  extremities,  I 
believe,  were  also  burned  that  day.  The  pelvis  and  some  of 
the  limbs  were  put  under  the  lid  of  the  lecture  room  table,  in 
what  is  called  the  well — a  deep  sink,  lined  with  lead.  A 
stream  of  water  was  turned  on  and  kept  running  all  through 
Friday.  The  thorax  was  put  in  a  similar  well  in  the  lower 
laboratory,  which  I  filled  with  water,  and  threw  in  a  quantity 
of  potash  which  I  found  there.  This  disposition  of  the 
remains  was  not  changed  till  after  the  visit  of  the  officers 
Monday.  When  the  body  had  been  all  thus  disposed  of  I 
cleared  away  all  traces  of  what  had  been  done.  The  stick 
with  which  the  fatal  blow  had  been  struck  I  put  into  the  fire. 
It  was  a  grape-vine  stump,  say  two  inches  in  diameter  and 
two  feet  long.  I  had  carried  it  from  Cambridge  to  the  col¬ 
lege  long  before,  to  show  the  effect  of  certain  chemicals  in 
coloring  woods. 

“I  took  the  two  notes  from  the  table,  seized  an  old  metallic 
pen  and  dashed  it  across  the  face  and  through  the  signature, 
and  put  them  in  my  pocket.  I  had  as  yet  given  no  thought 
as  to  what  account  I  should  give  of  the  object  or  results  of  my 
interview  with  Dr.  Parkman.  I  left  the  college  to  go  home  at 
six  o’clock.  I  collected  myself  as  well  as  I  could,  that  I  might 
meet  my  family  and  friends  with  composure.  Saturday  I 
^visited  the  college,  but  made  no  change  in  the  disposition  of 
the  remains,  and  laid  no  plans  as  to  my  future  course.  When, 
Saturday  evening,  I  read  the  notice  in  the  papers  concerning 
the  disappearance,  I  was  deeply  impressed  with  my  taking 
some  ground  as  to  the  character  of  my  interview  with  Dr. 
Parkman,  for  I  saw  it  must  become  known  that  I  had  had  such 
an  interview.  The  question  exercised  me  much,  but  Sunday 
my  course  was  taken.  I  would  go  to  Boston  and  be  the  first 
to  declare  myself  as  the  person,  as  yet  unknown,  with  whom 
Dr.  Parkman  had  Friday  morning  made  the  appointment.  I 
would  take  the  ground  that  I  had  invited  him  to  the  college  to 
pay  him  money,  and  that  I  had  paid  him  accordingly.  I  fixed 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


1 14 

upon  the  sum  by  taking  the  notes  and  adding  the  interest, 
which,  it  appears,  I  cast  erroneously.  If  I  had  thought  of  this 
course  earlier  I  would  not  have  deposited  Tetter’s  check  for 
$90  in  the  bank  Saturday,  but  would  have  suppressed  it,  as 
going  so  far  toward  making  up  the  sum  which  I  was  to  pro¬ 
fess  having  paid  the  day  before.  I  looked  into  the  rooms 
Sunday  afternoon,  but  did  nothing.  Monday,  after  the  first 
visit  of  the  officers,  I  took  the  pelvis  and  some  of  the  limbs 
from  the  upper  well  and  threw  them  into  the  vault  under  the 
privy.  I  packed  the  thorax  in  the  tea  chest  as  found. 
Wednesday  I  built  another  fire  in  the  furnace  and  burned  some 
of  the  limbs,  which  was  the  last  I  had  to  do  with  the  remains.” 

Had  Professor  Webster  made  this  statement  when  first 
arrested,  or  even  after  his  conviction,  instead  of  so  vehemently 
protesting  his  entire  innocence,  it  is  very  possible  that  his  sen¬ 
tence  might  have  been  commuted.  As  it  was,  his  petition  was 
rejected,  and  all  hope  of  life  swept  away.  When  every  hope 
was  gone  the  condemned  man  regained  his  composure  and 
admitted  the  entire  justice  of  his  impending  fate.  To  a  Mr. 
Andrews,  who  visited  him  the  Sunday  before  his  execution,  he 
said: 

“Mr.  Andrews,  I  consider  this  whole  thing  perfect  justice. 
The  officers  of  the  law  are  right ;  everybody  is  right ;  and  I  am 
wrong!  And  I  feel  that  if  yielding  up  my  life  to  the  injured 
law  will  atone,  even  in  part,  for  the  crime  I  have  committed, 
that  it  is  a  consolation!” 

Two  days  before  his  execution,  in  an  interview  with  the 
sheriff,  he  made  the  following  reply  to  an  allusion  as  to  the 
possibility  of  his  committing  suicide : 

“Why  should  I?  All  the  proceedings  in  my  case  have  been 
just.  The  court  discharged  their  duty!  The  law-officers  of 
the  commonwealth  did  their  duty,  and  no  more !  The  verdict 
of  the  jury  was  just!  The  sentence  of  the  court  was  just;  and 
it  is  just  that  I  should  die  on  the  scaffold,  in  accordance  with 
that  sentence.  ” 

Dr.  Webster  met  death  with  composure  and  resignation, 
and  professed  full  faith  and  confidence  in  Christianity. 

The  case  of  Professor  Webster  is  somewhat  difficult  to 


THE  WEBSTER-PARKM AN  CASE 


“5 

classify  with  reference  to  the  motive  that  led  to  the  commission 
of  the  crime.  If  his  confession  be  taken  as  absolutely  true,  it 
must  be  assigned  to  the  category  of  blind,  ungovernable  rage, 
and  this  disposition  has  generally  been  made  of  the  matter.  It 
must  be  remembered,  however,  that  in  making  this  confession, 
he  was  striving  to  save  his  life,  hence  his  statements  must  be 
taken  with  a  liberal  allowance  on  that  score.  Besides,  three 
weeks  before,  he  had  addressed  a  petition  to  the  same  tribunal 
in  which  he  most  emphatically  asserted  his  entire  innocence. 
There  are  many  critical  people,  who,  after  having  carefully 
examined  this  most  remarkable  case,  have  concluded  that  the 
murder  was  deliberately  planned  by  Professor  Webster. 
Several  things  point  to  the  accuracy  of  this  conclusion  A 
day  or  two  before  the  homicide,  and  after  the  appointment 
had  been  made  for  a  meeting  on  that  fated  Friday  afternoon, 
he  had  instructed  the  janitor  to  bring  him  about  a  quart  of 
human  blood  from  the  hospital,  saying  that  he  wanted  it  for 
some  experiment.  This  would  point  to  an  excuse  for  the 
presence  of  blood  about  his  premises.  Dr.  Webster  was  a 
good-natured  man,  never  known  to  give  way  to  rage ;  indeed, 
he  was  a  man  of  most  even  temperament,  and  it  hardly  seems 
probable  that  he  would  so  far  lose  all  self-control,  because 
rather  harshly  dunned  for  the  payment  of  a  just  debt,  long 
past  due,  as  to  kill  a  man  who  had,  on  many  occasions,  stood 
his  friend.  Again,  his  systematic  efforts  to  dispose  of  the 
remains  and  to  throw  suspicion  upon  Littlefield,  the  janitor, 
make  strongly  against  the  theory  that  the  act  was  the  result  of 
uncontrollable  rage.  Another  point  in  support  of  this  theory 
is  found  in  the  circumstance  that  he  told  his  ticket  agent  the 
morning  of  the  murder  that  he  had  paid  Dr.  Parkman. 

So  manifold  are  the  passions  that  sway  the  human  heart, 
and  so  contradictory  the  actions  of  man,  that  it  is  impossible 
to  more  than  conjecture  what  the  real  cause  of  this  homicide 
was.  The  case  had  a  most  salutary  effect  upon  the  criminal 
practice  of  Massachusetts,  and  the  entire  country  as  well. 
Circumstantial  evidence,  while  still  closely  scanned  and  care¬ 
fully  weighed,  is  received  with  more  favor  by  courts  and  juries 
than  before  the  trial  and  conviction  of  John  W.  Webster. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


THE  DEARING  MASSACRE  AND  DRUSE  MURDER 

The  intricacies  and  contradictions  of  the  human  heart  are 
past  finding  out.  Shakespeare  indicates  extremes  of  human 
action  when  he  makes  Hamlet  say:  “To  kill  a  king  and  marry 
with  his  brother.”  But  what  shall  we  say  of  a  man  who  will 
deliberately  murder  eight  people — every  one  his  friend — and 
then  proceed  to  feed  the  horses  and  pigs  lest  they  become 
hungry  before  the  crime  is  discovered?  How  are  we  to 
classify  a  monster  who  dashes  out  the  brains  of  an  infant 
barely  old  enough  to  lisp  its  mother’s  name,  and  then  pro¬ 
ceeds  to  throw  corn  to  the  chickens?  Upon  what  theory  are 
we  to  judge  a  rational  creature,  who,  having  done  all  these 
things  for  a  few  paltry  dollars,  when  detected  longs  to  atone 
for  his  crimes  and  wishes  that  he  might  die  eight  times — once 
for  each  life  he  has  taken? 

In  1866,  there  lived  on  what  was  then  known  as  Jones’ 
Lane,  in  the  first  ward  of  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  a  family 
named  Dearing,  consisting  of  Christopher  Dearing,  his  wife 
Julia,  and  five  children,  ranging  in  age  from  ten  years  to  four¬ 
teen  months.  Although,  strictly  speaking,  within  the  limits 
of  the  city,  the  house  of  the  Dearing  family  was  really  in  the 
country.  The  land  was  utilized  for  farming,  and  the  nearest 
house  was  some  two  hundred  yards  distant.  Near  the  small 
house  was  a  barn  in  which  was  kept  a  horse  and  pig.  Dearing 
tilled  some  land  surrounding  his  house,  but  his  real  business 
was  that  of  buying  cattle,  which  occupied  most  of  his  time. 
In  this  enterprise  he  had  a  partner,  who  supplied  the  necessary 
capital,  the  profits  being  equally  divided.  In  the  fall  of  1865 
a  young  German,  Anton  Probst  by  name,  had  applied  to  Mr. 
Dearing  for  work,  and  had  been  given  employment.  Mrs. 

116 


DEARING  MASSACRE 


117 

Dearing  did  not  like  his  actions,  and  he  was  discharged  after 
living  in  the  house  about  three  weeks.  The  following  Feb¬ 
ruary  he  returned  and  asked  Mr.  Dearing  to  re-employ  him, 
which,  in  the  natural  kindness  of  his  heart,  the  latter  did. 

On  Wednesday,  the  nth  of  April,  1866,  a  neighbor  from 
whom  Mr.  Dearing  was  in  the  habit  of  borrowing  newspapers 
remarked  that  something  must  be  wrong  at  Dearing’ s,  as 
none  of  the  children  had  been  sent  for  papers  since  the  preced¬ 
ing  Friday.  He  remarked  also  that  he  had  seen  no  one  mov¬ 
ing  about  the  premises  for  some  days.  Accordingly,  he 
walked  over  to  the  Dearing  house,  which  he  found  untenanted. 
Proceeding  to  the  barn  he  discovered  the  horses  almost  dead 
from  thirst,  while  the  pig  was  so  weak  as  to  be  unable  to  rise. 
Having  cared  for  the  animals  he  returned  to  the  house,  and 
looking  through  a  window  saw  that  everything  inside  was  in 
the  utmost  disorder.  Thoroughly  alarmed,  he  went  for  a 
relation,  who,  entering  the  barn,  saw  a  stocking  projecting 
from  a  pile  of  hay.  This  was  found  to  contain  a  human  foot. 
The  horrified  men  at  once  summoned  further  assistance,  and  a 
systematic  search  was  instituted.  In  the  barn,  covered  with 
hay,  were  found  seven  human  bodies;  those  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Dearing,  their  four  children  and  a  young  lady,  Miss  Elizabeth 
Dolan,  of  Burlington  City,  N.  J.  The  bodies  of  the  children 
were  ranged  beside  that  of  the  mother,  that  of  the  infant 
being  laid  upon  her  breast.  The  head  of  each  had  been 
crushed  in  with  a  blunt  instrument  of  some  kind,  their  throats 
being  horribly  gashed,  presumably  by  an  axe.  A  boy  named 
Cornelius  Carey,  who  had  been  employed  about  the  little  farm, 
working  with  Probst,  was  also  missing.  The  following  day, 
his  dead  body  was  found  beside  a  hay-rick,  some  three  hun¬ 
dred  yards  from  the  house.  He  had  been  murdered  in  pre¬ 
cisely  the  same  manner  as  the  others,  and  his  body  likewise 
covered  with  hay. 

Of  the  five  children  of  the  murdered  parents,  the  eldest, 
Willie  Dearing,  alone  escaped.  This  was  not  due  to  any 
temporary  feeling  of  humanity  on  the  part  of  the  murderous 
wretch.  The  boy  had  been  sent  over  the  Schuylkill  to  visit 
his  grandfather,  and  thus  became  the  sole  survivor  of  the  ill- 


1 18 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


fated  family.  But  there  are  compensations  in  death  as  well  as 
in  life,  and  another  victim  had  taken  his  place.  The  family  of 
Miss  Dolan,  of  Burlington  City,  N.  J.,  were  friends  of  the 
Dearings,  and  Elizabeth  was  in  the  habit  of  visiting  them. 
On  the  day  of  the  murder,  Saturday,  April  7th,  she  came  to 
Philadelphia  on  a  steamboat.  Mr.  Dearing  was  expecting  her, 
but  missed  her  at  the  wharf.  He  seems,  however,  to  have 
overtaken  her,  as  the  two  reached  his  home  in  the  buggy 
together,  where  the  murderer,  armed  with  his  death-dealing 
axe,  was  anxiously,  eagerly,  awaiting  his  employer’s  arrival. 

The  public  had  barely  recovered  from  the  shock  of  a  most 
brutal  murder  committed  at  Germantown,  near  Philadelphia, 
and  the  horrible  details  of  the  Dearing  massacre  threw  the 
community  into  a  state  of  almost  uncontrollable  excitement. 
Not  only  that;  the  news  was  flashed  around  the  globe  and  sent 
a  thrill  of  horror  through  the  universal  heart  of  civilized  man. 
The  murderer,  or  murderers — as  at  first  it  was  not  thought  pos¬ 
sible  that  one  man  could  have  perpetrated  the  wholesale  crime — 
had  ransacked  the  house,  taking  every  article  of  value,  over¬ 
looking  nothing.  Even  the  boots  and  clothing  of  the  mur¬ 
dered  man  had  been  carried  away.  Some  of  Probst’s  clothing 
was  found  upon  the  premises,  and  as  no  one  in  the  neighbor¬ 
hood  had  seen  him  since  the  preceding  Friday,  he  was  strongly 
suspected.  The  police  were  at  once  called  in  and  began  a 
systematic  search  for  the  supposed  murderer. 

His  movements  were  traced  from  one  low  resort  to 
another.  It  was  learned  that  he  had  sold  one  of  Mr.  Dearing’s 
revolvers  to  a  saloonkeeper,  and  one  of  his  watches  to  a 
jeweler.  On  the  Thursday  after  the  murder,  a  police  officer 
came  upon  a  man  in  the  neighborhood  of  Twenty-third  and 
Market  streets,  one  of  the  populous  portions  of  the  city.  His 
appearance  did  not  tally  with  the  description  of  Probst,  but  he 
engaged  him  in  conversation  and  became  suspicious.  As  the 
district  attorney,  in  his  opening  address  upon  the  trial,  rather 
strongly  put  it:  “With  no  other  guide  than  the  God-given 
instincts  which  detect  murder,  they  saw  a  man  whom  they 
were,  as  by  a  divine  impulse,  compelled  to  arrest.’’  At  the 
police  station  he  was  searched,  and  various  articles  belonging 


DEARING  MASSACRE 


to  the  Dearings  found  in  his  possession.  More  than  that ;  he 
was  then  wearing  the  boots  he  had  taken  from  the  murdered 
man,  and  several  articles  of  his  clothing.  Probst  made  no 
resistance,  or  even  protest,  but  seemed  rather  relieved  than 
distressed  at  his  apprehension. 

On  April  25th,  within  three  weeks  of  the  fearful  massacre, 
Anton  Probst  was  placed  on  trial  for  the  murder  of  Christo¬ 
pher  Dearing,  the  other  seven  indictments  being  held  over 
against  him.  The  prisoner  entered  a  plea  of  not  guilty.  He 
wished  to  offer  no  defense,  but  the  court  appointed  two  able 
attorneys  to  represent  him.  The  trial  occupied  several  days. 
The  district  attorney  presented  the  case,  depending  entirely 
upon  circumstantial  evidence,  yet  absolutely  overwhelming  in 
its  completeness.  Probst  had  made  many  damaging  admis¬ 
sions,  amounting  almost  to  a  confession,  but  nothing  of  this 
was  introduced  in  evidence,  the  case  being  regarded  as  amply 
strong  without  it  The  defense  introduced  no  witnesses. 
Probst ’s  attorneys  admitted  that  the  property  of  the  murdered 
man  had  been  found  upon  the  prisoner,  but  argued  that  he 
might  have  robbed  them  and  some  one  else  have  murdered 
them  afterwards.  Their  only  real  defense  was  the  inherent 
weakness  of  circumstantial  evidence.  Upon  his  arrival  in 
New  York  from  Germany,  in  1863,  Probst,  who  at  that  time 
was  only  twenty-one  years  old,  had  immediately  enlisted  in 
the  Union  army.  He  deserted  several  times,  and  became  a  * 
professional  “bounty  jumper.”  His  counsel  attempted  to 
secure  the  sympathy  of  the  jury  by  representing  him  as  an 
ex-soldier.  Commenting  on  this  in  his  closing  address  to  the 
jury,  the  district  attorney,  in  vigorous  and  eloquent  terms, 
denounced  Probst  and  protested  against  the  honored  and 
honorable  title  of  soldier  being  applied  to  the  murderous  wretch. 
These  sentiments  appear  so  just  that  we  quote  a  few  lines. 

“He  a  soldier!  By  killing  Cornelius  Carey  alone  he  forfeits 
the  name  of  soldier  He  a  soldier!  The  man  who  carries 
innocent  children  into  a  barn  and  kills  them  with  as  little 
remorse  as  if  he  was  a  farmer  cutting  the  throats  of  chickens 
to  take  them  to  market! 

“He  a  soldier!  that  would  murder  these  innocents,  cutoff 


I  20 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


their  little  fingers,  strip  off  their  little  aprons,  and  walk  coolly 
to  the  house  made  desolate  by  his  horrid  crime,  and  coolly 
wipe  his  hands  upon  the  baby’s  garments! 

“A  soldier!  A  man  against  whose  brutality  none  are 
safe — a  man  who  murders  young  and  old,  spares  neither  age 
nor  sex,  and  hurries  into  eternity,  by  dashing  out  their 
brains  and  cutting  their  throats,  such  innocent  beings  as  the 
Master  spoke  of  when  he  said,  ‘Of  such  is  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven.  ’ 

“Gentlemen,  I  honor  the  name  of  soldier,  and  I  trust  that 
when  Anton  Probst  is  spoken  of  hereafter,  when  his  name 

shall  have  been  recorded  in  the  criminal  annals  of  the  country, 

\ 

the  vile,  brutal,  murderous  wretch  will  be  there  known,  not  as 
Anton  Probst  the  soldier,  but  as  Anton  Probst  the  murderer — 
the  felon  who  waded  so  deep  in  human  blood,  that  history  has 
failed  and  futurity  will  fail  to  produce  a  fellow  to  him.” 

After  being  out  only  twenty  minutes  the  jury  returned  a 
verdict  of  guilty  of  murder  in  the  first  degree.  On  May  ist, 
Hon.  Joseph  Allison,  the  presiding  judge,  in  a  most  eloquent 
and  feeling  manner,  pronounced  the  death  sentence  upon 
Anton  Probst. 

After  his  conviction,  Probst  made  two  confessions,  which 
substantially  agreed.  The  last  one  was  made  in  the  presence 
of  the  chief  of  detective  of  police,  and  several  reporters.  It 
was  attested  by  John  P.  O’Neil  and  John  A.  Walbert,  the 
prisoner’s  attorneys,  both  of  whom  were  also  present.  This 
confession  tallied  closely  with  the  facts  as  worked  out  by  the 
prosecution,  and  was  undoubtedly  substantially  true.  As  it 
furnishes  a  succinct  history  of  this  most  remarkable  and 
atrocious  crime,  it  is  given  here,  in  its  entirety. 

“Being  desirous  of  making  a  full  and  true  confession,  I 
request  my  counsel  to  take  down  in  writing  the  particulars  of 
my  motives,  and  of  the  manner  attending  the  murder  of  the 
Dearing  family.  Being  in  bad  health,  I  went  to  the  Alms¬ 
house  Hospital  on  the  first  of  December,  A.  D.  1865,  and, 
suffering  for  want  of  money,  I,  whilst  there,  conceived  the 
design  of  robbing  Mr.  Dearing  when  I  should  leave  the  hos* 
pital  and  return  to  his  farm, 


v 


DEARING  MASSACRE 


12  I 


“Sometime  in  the  month  of  February,  about  the  24th,  I 
left  the  hospital,  and  returned  to  the  Dearing  farm  about  the 
2d  of  March.  I  returned  with  the  view  of  robbing  Dearing, 
and  I  was  constantly  watching  my  opportunity,  up  to  the  time 
of  the  murder;  I  did  get  opportunities,  but  my  heart  failed  me. 

“On  the  Saturday  morning  of  the  murder,  about  nine 
o’clock,  I  formed  the  design  of  killing  the  entire  family.  I 
was  in  the  field  by  the  hay-stack ,  it  was  there  I  made  my 
mind  up;  Cornelius  was  with  me.  He  was  helping  me  put  the 
wood  on  the  cart  to  take  it  up  to  the  barn;  the  axe  with 
which  I  killed  him  was  in  the  cart.  I  took  the  axe  from  the 
cart,  and  Cornelius  and  I  went  under  the  tree  about  one  hun¬ 
dred  yards  below  the  stack ;  it  was  raining  a  little  at  the  time, 
and  we  went  there  for  shelter  Cornelius  sat  down,  I  stood 
up  and  got  behind  him;  three  or  four  times  I  attempted  to 
strike  as  he  turned  his  head  away,  but  I  could  not ;  at  last  I 
struck  as  his  face  was  turned  from  me ;  the  blow  was  on  the 
left  side,  over  the  ear;  then  he  fell  over,  not  speaking  a  word; 
after  he  fell  over,  I  gave  him  some  blows  on  the  head — one  or 
two,  I  can’t  tell — when  I  turned  the  sharp  part  of  the  axe 
around,  which  had  been  sharpened  two  days  before  that  for 
cutting  the  trees ;  with  it  I  chopped  him  in  the  neck  two  or 
three  times ;  he  bled  a  great  deal  here,  and  I  think  the  blood 
must  be  on  the  tree  yet ;  I  used  the  big  axe  to  kill  him  After 
I  killed  him  I  lifted  him  upon  the  cart  and  pulled  him  over  to 
the  hay-stack,  where  I  put  him  in  the  side  away  from  the 
house,  and  covered  him  up  with  hay ;  I  put  the  axe  in  the  cart ; 
it  had  blood  on  it;  I  went  then  with  the  horse  and  cart  to  the 
house;  this  was  about  ten  o’clock.  Before  I  killed  Cornelius, 
I  looked  all  around  to  see  if  any  one  was  near  who  could  dis¬ 
cover  me,  but  I  saw  no  one.  After  I  had  killed  Carey,  and 
before  I  started  to  the  house,  I  threw  a  little  wood  on  the  cart. 

“When  I  reached  the  yard,  I  took  the  wood  off  the  cart 
and  left  it  with  the  cart  on  the  side  of  the  machine  house ;  then 
I  went  in  the  stable  and  took  with  me  the  big  axe,  the  little 
axe,  and  the  hammer  which  I  fixed  there  for  the  purpose  of 
killing  the  family.  I  put  them  all  at  the  corner  of  the  door,  so 
as  they  would  be  handy  to  me,  for  I  intended  to  kill  all  in  the 


122 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


stable ;  there  was  blood  on  my  pants,  which  I  brushed  off  as 
well  as  I  could  with  hay,  and  after  that  I  went  to  the  house. 
The  children,  including  the  baby,  were  all  in  the  house,  but 
Mrs.  Dearing  was  down  to  the  ditch  on  the  left  side  of  the 
house  getting  water;  she  had  a  pail  with  her.  I  told  Johnny, 
the  oldest  boy,  I  wanted  him  to  come  over  to  the  stable  to  help 
me.  I  went  over  before  him,  and  he  followed  right  after  me. 
Before  he  came  in  I  picked  up  the  little  axe  in  the  right  hand 
and  concealed  it  down  by  my  leg  and  walked  down  toward  the 
crib;  John  walked  behind  me  until  he  came  to  the  passage-way 
that  leads  between  the  stalls,  when  he  turned  into  the  passage¬ 
way  to  the  left;  then  I  hit  him  from  behind  just  as  he  turned; 
he  fell  down  immediately;  he  never  spoke  a  word;  then  I 
chopped  him  in  the  neck  with  the  sharp  end  of  the  axe  two 
or  three  times.  I  then  carried  the  body  over  to  the  crib,  and 
laid  it  there  just  by  the  door;  when  I  crept  in  and  pulled  the 
body  in  by  the  shoulders ;  I  laid  it  in  the  corner  and  covered 
it  up  with  a  little  hay.  I  took  a  little  hay  then  and  wiped  the 
hatchet  off,  and  laid  it  down  with  the  hammer  and  the  axe 
where  I  put  them  first,  on  the  left-hand  side  as  you  go  in  the 
stable. 

“Then  I  went  to  the  house  again,  and  told  Mrs.  Dearing, 
who  was  then  engaged  in  doing  something  about  the  stove, 
that  the  young  horse  was  loose  in  the  stable,  and  I  could  not 
tie  it  myself,  and  asked  her  to  come  and  help  me.  I  then 
went  over  to  the  stable;  I  took  the  axe  as  I  walked  in  and 
went  down  to  the  place  where  I  killed  John.  Mrs.  Dearing 
followed  me  in  one  or  two  minutes,  and  walked  up  to  the 
passage-way,  where  I  killed  John.  As  she  turned  to  the 
left  to  go  down  I  struck  her  with  the  axe  on  the  right 
side  of  the  head.  She  fell  outside;  John  fell  inside.  I  then 
gave  her  two  or  three  blows  on  the  head,  when  I  turned 
around  the  sharp  part  of  the  axe  and  chopped  her  two  or 
three  times  in  the  neck.  I  then  dragged  her  to  the  crib  in 
which  the  bodies  were  found,  and  got  her  in  just  like  I  got 
Johnny  in,  and  covered  her  up  with  hay. 

“Then  I  took  the  blood  off  the  axe  with  hay,  and  put  it 
back  in  the  same  place  with  the  hammer.  I  went  back  to  the 


DEARING  MASSACRE 


123 


house  and  told  Thomas  his  mother  wanted  to  see  him  in  the 
stable ;  he  went  right  over  with  me  and  went  in  the  door  first ; 
I  walked  behind  him  and  picked  up  the  axe ;  he  walked  back 
into  the  entry  till  he  got  within  two  or  three  feet  this  side  of 
where  I  killed  the  others,  when  I  hit  him  on  the  head  with  the 
little  axe,  from  behind,  on  the  left  side ;  he  fell  down  and  I 
gave  him  one  or  two  more  in  the  head,  and  I  turned  the  sharp 
side  and  chopped  his  throat  two  or  three  times;  then  I 
brought  him  in  the  crib  like  the  others  and  covered  his  body 
up  with  hay;  I  left  the  little  axe  in  the  same  place  that  I 
killed  him ;  I  stood  it  up  against  the  boards ;  I  had  no  need  to 
hide  it  any  more.  Then  I  went  in  the  house  again  and  told 
Annie,  ‘Your  mother  wants  to  see  you  over  in  the  stable.’ 
She  walked  over  before  me,  and  I  lifted  up  the  little  baby  and 
carried  it  over  in  my  arms;  Annie  went  in  the  stable;  I 
walked  behind  her;  she  walked  right  through  to  the  place 
where  the  others  were  killed ;  when  I  came  in  I  left  the  little 
baby,  and  put  him  sitting  up  against  the  board  in  the  corner 
on  the  left  side ;  then  I  went  over  to  Annie,  picked  up  the 
little  axe,  and  as  she  was  looking  around  for  her  mother  I  hit 
her  on  the  left  side  of  the  head  with  the  axe ;  then  she  fell 
down,  and  I  chopped  her  with  the  sharp  part  of  the  axe.  I 
let  her  lay  there,  and  I  went  over  for  the  baby,  and  I  brought 
it  over  on  the  same  place ;  I  stood  him  down,  when  I  took  the 
axe  and  gave  him  one  on  the  forehead;  he  fell;  then  I  took 
the  sharp  side  of  the  axe  and  chopped  his  throat;  then  I 
carried  Annie  and  the  baby  both  together  into  the  crib,  and 
covered  them  up  with  hay;  then  I  took  the  axes  and  cleaned 
them  off  with  hay.  I  left  the  little  axe  and  the  hammer  in  the 
same  place;  then  I  took  the  new  axe  and  washed  it  in  the 
ditch,  and  brought  it  over  to  the  house  and  set  it  up  against 
the  bench  right  outside  of  the  kitchen  door;  then  I  went  into 
the  house,  and  went  into  the  kitchen ;  I  stayed  there  and  in 
the  back  room  all  the  time  until  Mr.  Dearing  came  back ;  it 
took  me,  I  guess,  about  half  an  hour  to  kill  the  family,  and  I 
then  went  in  the  house  to  wait  for  Mr.  Dearing  to  come  home ; 
I  stayed  in  the  back  room  and  the  kitchen  all  the  time.  I 
waited  there  until  about  one,  or  half-past  one  o’clock,  when  I 


124 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


saw  Mr.  Dearing  coming  along  the  road;  I  saw  Miss  Dolan 
was  in  the  wagon  with  him. 

“I  went  out  and  stayed  by  the  kitchen  door.  He  then 
drove  in;  he  came  by  the  Old  Point  House  road;  Mr.  Dearing 
stepped  out  of  the  carriage,  and  I  asked  him  if  he  would  go 
over  in  the  stable ;  I  told  him  there  was  a  sick  steer  there ;  I 
said,  ‘He  looks  pretty  sick,  you  can  tell  pretty  near;  I  want 
you  to  come  over  and  see  him.’  He  then  went  right  over  with 
me  in  the  stable,  and  Miss  Dolan  went  into  the  house;  this 
was  before  the  horse  was  taken  from  the  carriage ;  he  left  the 
horse  and  wagon  stand  there;  he  walked  sharp  over  in  the 
stable,  and  I  walked  behind  him ;  he  went  in  the  stable,  and  I 
picked  up  the  axe  in  my  hand  from  the  corner  where  I  left  it ; 
I  walked  behind  him  to  the  middle  of  the  stable ;  I  struck  him 
one  on  the  head  on  the  left  side  with  the  small  axe ;  he  fell 
right  down  on  his  face;  he  did  not  speak;  I  then  turned  him 
over,  gave  him  two  more,  when  I  cut  him  with  the  sharp  edge 
of  the  axe  in  the  throat ;  I  put  a  little  hay  over  him  and  went  out 
of  the  stable.  Miss  Dolan  stood  outside  the  house  and  hal¬ 
looed  for  me;  she  said:  ‘Anton,  come  put  the  horse  out.’  I 
said:  ‘Mr.  Dearing  wants  to  see  you  in  the  stable.’  She  had 
been  in  the  house  and  taken  her  things  off;  she  took  them 
upstairs,  and  laid  them  on  the  bed ;  she  then  went  over  about 
half-way;  she  asked  me,  ‘Where  is  Mrs.  Dearing  and  the  chil¬ 
dren?’  I  told  her:  ‘They  are  all  over  in  the  stable.’  She 
then  walked  in  the  stable  and  I  walked  behind  her;  I  then 
took  the  hammer,  the  little  axe  was  in  the  corner  where  I  left 

it  after  killing  Dearing;  when  she  was  in  five  or  six  feet  I 

/ 

knocked  her  down  by  hitting  her  on  the  right  side  of  the  head 
with  the  hammer;  she  fell  on  her  face  like  Mr.  Dearing. 
When  she  fell  down  I  turned  her  around  quick  and  gave  her 
one  more  with  the  hammer,  then  I  took  the  little  axe  and  cut 
her  throat;  I  chopped  her  three  times,  I  guess.  Then  I  shut 
the  door;  then  I  went  and  put  the  hay  from  Mr.  Dearing  and 
took  his  watch  and  his  pocketbook;  then  I  put  them  in  my 
pocket ;  then  I  went  and  looked  what  Miss  Dolan  had ;  I  found 
a  pocketbook  in  her  pocket,  and  I  put  it  In  my  pocket. 

“I  then  took  Mr,  Dearing  by  the  shoulders  and  dragged 


\ 


DEARING  MASSACRE 


125 


him  over  to  the  corner  where  he  was  found ;  then  I  took  Miss 
Dolan  the  same  way  and  laid  her  beside  him  and  covered  them 
up  with  hay.  Then  I  went  out  of  the  stable  and  shut  the 
door,  and  went  over  to  the  carriage,  took  the  gears  off  the 
horse  and  put  him  in  the  stable;  I  gave  him  plenty  of  hay, 
oats  and  corn.  I  then  shut  the  stable  door  and  went  over  to 
the  house  and  put  the  wagon  beside  the  shed ;  then  I  went  in 
the  house  and  looked  how  much  money  I  got;  I  looked  first 
in  Dearing’s  pocketbook,  and  I  found  ten  dollars  in  green¬ 
backs,  two  two-dollar  notes  and  one  three-dollar  note,  that  was 
the  counterfeit  note  they  had  at  the  court;  the  two-dollar 
notes  were  counterfeits;  I  got  all  the  money  from  the  big 
pocketbook  and  left  it  at  the  house;  then  I  looked  in  Miss 
Dolan’s  pocketbook  and  there  was  not  one  cent  in  it,  but 
there  was  some  postage  stamps;  I  left  the  money  and 
watches  and  pocketbook  on  the  table,  and  fastened  the  door 
of  the  house ;  then  I  went  upstairs  and  looked  every  place  for 
money. 

“I  found  a  pocketbook  in  the  bed;  there  was  three  dollars 
and  sixty  or  sixty-five  cents ;  this  was  in  Mr.  Dearing’s  bed ;  I 
found  them  two  revolvers  that  were  in  court  in  the  same  bed 
under  the  ticking;  I  took  them  downstairs,  and  I  went  up¬ 
stairs  again,  and  looked  all  over  in  every  place.  I  could  find 
no  more  money;  then  I  took  three  shirts,  and  a  pair  of  pants, 
and  took  them  downstairs  and  dressed  myself  in  the  back 
room.  I  washed  myself  before  this  in  the  kitchen,  in  a  basin. 

“I  shaved  myself  with  Mr.  Dearing’s  razors,  the  same  as 
were  in  the  carpet-bag;  I  took  all  my  beard  off;  this  was 
before  I  washed  mj^self;  I  dressed  myself  in  Mr.  Dearing’s 
shirt  and  pants,  then  I  ate  some  bread  and  butter,  and  then  I 
went  upstairs  again,  and  looked  all  over  for  something,  and 
took  all  the  things  that  I  got  in  my  carpet-bag;  then  I  rolled 
up  my  bloody  clothes  and  put  them  under  the  blanket  on  my 
bed  where  I  slept;  then  I  went  downstairs  and  stayed5  there, 
and  fed  the  dogs  and  chickens  and  everything  with  the  salt 
beef. 

“I  fed  the  chickens  with  oats  and  corn;  I  then  went  in  the 
house  and  stayed  there  thinking  it  all  over;  I  thought  what  I 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


1 26 


should  do  after  killing  so  many  people,  and  got  so  little  money. 
I  waited  then  for  the  evening;  I  went  upstairs  a  couple  of 
times  more  looking  for  money,  but  got  no  more  than  I  have 
stated.  About  six  and  a  half  o’clock  I  left,  having  shut  fast 
all  the  doors  and  one  window  on  the  south  side,  and  got  out 
through  the  front  window  on  the  porch ;  I  then  went  through 
the  meadow  to  the  house  where  he  kept  the  cattle,  and  opened 
the  door  so  as  the  cattle  could  get  in  and  eat  some  hay,  as 
there  was  plenty  there;  I  then  came  to  the  city  by  Jones’  lane; 
one  of  the  dogs  came  with  me;  he  would  not  leave  me;  he 
followed  me  to  Third  Street;  then  I  got  into  one  of  the  Third 
street  cars  and  saw  the  dog  no  more ;  he  would  not  leave  me 
till  I  got  into  the  car;  I  got  off  the  cars  at  Callowhill  street 
and  walked  to  New  Market,  and  went  to  Leckfeldt;  he,  in  his 
testimony  on  the  trial,  told  what  took  place  there. 

“I  next  went  to  Hoover’s  in  Front  Street,  and  stayed  there 
about  half  an  hour ;  then  I  went  to  the  Germantown  road  to  a 
lager  beer  saloon,  remained  there  about  three  hours,  apd 
returned  to  Hoover’s,  where  I  remained  all  night.  The  testi¬ 
mony  given  on  trial  as  to  my  whereabouts  was  correct. 

“When  I  was  arrested  I  was  making  my  way  to  the 
country;  I  had  no  particular  place,  but  thought  the  best  way 
to  escape  was  by  West  Philadelphia.  The  reason  why  I  said 
that  I  had  an  accomplice  was  because  I  was  afraid  of  being 
lynched  and  that  the  police  force  could  not  save  me. 

“My  only  motive  was  money.  I  killed  the  boy  so  as  he 
could  not  tell  on  me;  I  killed  the  two  oldest  children  so  as 
they  would  not  afterwards  identify  me;  I  killed  the  two 
youngest,  as  I  did  not  wish  to  leave  them  in  the  house  alone 
without  some  one  to  care  for  them ;  I  had  no  ill  feeling  to  any 
one  of  the  family;  Cornelius  and  I  were  good  friends. 

“I  had  no  accomplice,  and  I  desire  no  one  to  be  accused  of 
the  crime ;  I  named  one  as  Ganther,  because  I  had  heard  fre¬ 
quently  that  name  in  the  army;  I  never  committed  murder 
before,  nor  had  I  ever  stolen  a  cent  from  any  one. 

“After  I  killed  the  boy,  my  mind  was  so  that  I  would  have 
killed  any  one  who  would  have  come  upon  the  farm,  and  from 
whom  I’d  fear  detection.  I  acknowledge  the  justness  of  my 


BEARING  MASSACRE 


127 


fate,  and  feel  sorry  for  my  crime,  but  bad  company  and  bad 
habits  led  me  step  by  step  to  the  foulest  of  all  crimes. 

“The  above  confession  is  made  with  the  full  knowledge  of 
my  approaching  execution,  and  contains  nothing  but  what  is 
absolutely  true.  “Anton  Probst.” 

Probst  was  executed  on  June  8,  1866.  He  met  his  fate  with 
almost  the  personification  of  resignation.  The  officials  who 
carried  into  effect  the  sentence  of  the  court,  the  attorneys  in 
the  case,  the  attendant  clergyman  and  the  legal  witnesses  all 
agreed  in  declaring  that  Probst  died  with  every  appearance  of 
willingness.  He  announced  that  he  actually  longed  for  the 
hour  to  come  when  his  life  was  to  be  taken.  That  he  was 
sincere  in  these  protestations,  can  hardly  be  doubted.  He  had 
made  two  full  and  complete  confessions  in  which  he  set  forth 
his  hideous  crime  without  the  smallest  effort  at  palliation 
or  excuse.  That  he  would  die  speaking  or  acting  a  deliberate 
lie  seems  highly  improbable,  since  he  had  nothing  to 
gain  by  it. 

The  execution  was  one  of  the  most  orderly  ever  reported. 
The  sheriff  officiated  in  person,  instead  of  thrusting  the  dis¬ 
agreeable  task  upon  one  of  his  younger  subordinates,  as  is 
usually  the  case.  The  body  was  delivered  to  the  Jefferson 
School  of  Medicine  for  dissection.  The  mounted  skeleton 
may  still  be  seen  in  the  museum  of  the  college. 

In  the  outset  we  asked  how  such  a  case  was  to  be  classified, 
and  the  answer  is  exceedingly  difficult  to  give.  The  motive 
was  clearly  cupidity.  Mr.  Dearing  often  had  in  his  possession 
considerable  sums  of  money  belonging  to  his  partner  in  the 
cattle-buying  business,  which  he  used,  very  imprudently,  to 
count  in  the  presence  of  his  hired  man.  Probst  himself  says 
that  this  excited  his  cupidity,  and  that  he  returned  there  the 
second  time  with  the  one  idea  of  stealing  money.  Unable  to 
secure  it  in  the  manner  he  had  first  planned,  the  idea  of  mur¬ 
der  presented  itself  to  his  mind.  This  he  probably  combated 
for  a  time,  though  doubtless  at  the  first  suggestion  he  knew  in 
his  heart  that  he  would  carry  it  into  execution.  Ghastly  and 
brutal  as  it  was,  his  plan  of  procedure  showed  considerable 
ingenuity,  and  in  no  other  way,  probably,  could  he  have 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


128 

accomplished  such  a  wholesale  slaughter  without  an  alarm 
being  given. 

Although  these  terrible  crimes  were  committed  from 
motives  of  cupidity,  the  existence  of  the  homicidal  impulse  is 
clearly  manifest.  In  his  confession  he  says:  “I  returned  with 
the  view  of  robbing  Dearing,  and  I  was  constantly  watching 
my  opportunity,  up  to  the  time  of  the  murder;  I  did  get 
opportunities,  but  my  heart  failed  me.”  If  he  had  not  the 
heart  to  rob  his  friend  and  benefactor,  how  did  he  acquire  the 
disposition  and  courage  to  kill  him  and  his  entire  family  as  a 
preliminary  to  theft,  if  not  from  the  operation  of  this  fiendish 
impulse?  It  is  seen  in  his  plan,  outlined  in  his  mind  to  the  most 
minute  details,  in  forming  which  he  appears  to  have  experi¬ 
enced  a  sort  of  diabolical  pleasure;  in  the  circumstance  that 
he  slew  an  infant  whose  life  he  might,  with  perfect  safety  to 
himself,  have  spared,  and  in  his  own  statement  that  after  he 
had  killed  young  Carey,  he  would  willingly  have  taken  the 
lives  of  any  and  all  who  presented  themselves.  He  seems  to 
have  become  almost  literally  intoxicated  with  crime,  and  to 
have  fairly  gloated  over  the  flow  of  blood.  If  ever  the  devil 
took  possession  of  a  human  being,  he  entered  into  the  heart  of 
Anton  Probst  and  urged  him  on  to  the  awful  deed.  In  his 
confession,  the  murderer  claimed  that  he  had  never  stolen 
anything.  When  it  is  remembered  that  he  was  a  “bounty- 
jumper,”  one  of  the  most  despicable  kind  of  thieves,  it  is  evi¬ 
dent  that  Probst’s  ideas  of  honesty  were  of  a  somewhat 
peculiar  kind. 

That  a  sane  man,  as  Probst  undoubtedly  was,  without 
reaching  the  climax  of  crime  by  a  long  series  of  criminal 
indulgences,  should  have  deliberately  committed  such  a  deed, 
almost  surpasses  human  belief,  and  suggests  that  he  was  the 
victim  of  some  form  of  moral  disease,  if  such  a  condition  be 
indeed  possible. 

Probst  declared  that  he  expected  to  be  arrested  and  felt 
relieved  in  a  manner  when  he  found  himself  within  the  strong 
grasp  of  the  law.  This  is  not  at  all  unlikely.  He  had  spent 
the  paltry  pittance  for  which  he  had  sacrificed  eight  lives,  his 
impulse  to  kill  had  been  satiated,  and  a  revulsion  of  feeling 


THE  HEARING  MASSACRE;  PROBST  AT  WORK. — PAGE  123. 


DRUSE  MURDER 


129 


might  well  have  been  anticipated.  His  final  repentance  and 
ardent  profession  of  religion,  were  likewise  in  the  same  line 
That  he  died  believing  himself  a  Christian,  seems  certain,  yet 
whether  his  reformation  would  have  proved  permanent,  had 
he  been  permitted  to  live,  may  well  be  doubted.  That  he  did 
not  long  maintain  the  fearful  malice  that  swayed  his  heart  on 
that  eventful  7th  day  of  April,  would  seem  to  argue  that  the 
opposite  emotions  would  have  proved  of  brief  duration. 

His  repentance  is  the  only  thing  that  removes  him  from  the 
category  of  total  depravity.  Taken  for  all  in  all,  this  volume, 
which  deals  with  homicide,  does  not  contain  a  more  complete 
instance  of  an  abandoned  heart. 

Anton  Probst  was  led  to  commit  the  most  atrocious  crimes 

of  the  century  through  the  indulgence  of  his  lowest  passions. 

In  his  confession  he  ascribes  his  awful  downfall  to  bad  habits 
\ 

and  evil  company.  If  there  be  implanted  within  the  heart  of 
every  son  of  Adam,  as  seems  quite  probable,  a  germ  which 
may  be  released  from  the  shell  where  it  lies  encysted  and 
drive  one  to  murder,  we  cannot  be  too  careful  how  we  indulge 
those  passions  that  weaken  the  forces  which  hold  it  in  control. 

As  already  suggested,  many  homicides  are  committed  as  a 
result  of  motives  so  commingled  and  confused  as  hardly  to  be 
subject  to  classification.  Other  murders  must  be  charged  to 
motives  which,  while  clear  and  distinct,  not  only  do  not  fall 
within  the  brief  category  we  have  given,  but  seem  entirely 
inadequate  to  account  for  the  commission  of  the  crime.  In 
such  cases,  a  careful  analysis  will  usually  show  that  the  visible 
and  definable  motive  was  vigorously  reinforced,  if  not  abso¬ 
lutely  supplanted,  by  the  presence  and  uncontrolled  action  of 
the  homicidal  impulse.  Such  an  instance  occurred  in  Herki¬ 
mer  county,  New  York,  in  the  latter  part  of  1889.  In  atrocity, 
it  almost  equals  the  case  of  Anton  Probst,  and  bears  a  marked 
resemblance  to  that  of  Dr.  Webster,  so  far  as  the  means 
employed  to  dispose  of  the  body  were  concerned. 

Near  the  city  of  Little  Falls,  New  York,  amid  scenes  of  the 
picturesque  beauty  presented  by  the  romantic  defile  through 
which  the  historic  Mohawk  tumbles  noisily  down,  there  lived, 
in  1889,  a  family  named  Druse.  It  consisted  of  four  members; 


130 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


John  Druse,  the  husband  and  father,  Roxana,  his  wife,  Mary, 
a  daughter  of  about  twenty,  and  a  son  of  eleven  or  twelve 
years.  The  family  occupied  a  small  tract  of  land  of  little 
value,  and  were  in  moderate  circumstances.  John  Druse  was 
a  man  quite  advanced  in  life,  being  nearly  seventy  years  of 
age  and  the  senior  of  his  wife  by  some  twenty-five  years. 
Without  being  absolutely  feeble,  he  was  by  no  meaus  vigorous, 
but  was  able  to  do  some  work.  In  the  fall  of  the  year  there 
was  little  to  be  done  upon  the  place,  but  he  attended  to  the 
stock,  and  was  almost  constantly  seen  busying  himself  about 
the  little  farm.  He  had  lived  there  for  many  years,  and  was 
quite  widely  known  and  universally  well  liked  and  respected. 
This  feeling  on  the  part  of  the  neighbors  did  not  extend  to 
his  wife,  Roxana,  who  was  a  woman  of  low  antecedents,  and 
exceedingly  disagreeable  temperament.  She  was  the  absolute 
ruler  of  the  household,  and  held  her  husband  in  a  state  of 
subjection  amounting  at  times  to  absolute  terror.  Without 
being  an  idiot,  Mary,  the  daughter,  was  feeble-minded, 
although  well  understanding  the  distinction  between  right  and 
wrong.  The  little  boy  was  possessed  of  ordinary  intelligence. 

The  section  where  the  Druse  family  lived  was  divided  up 
into  small  holdings,  and  hence  rather  thickly  populated. 
Early  in  November  of  the  year  mentioned,  some  of  the  neigh¬ 
bors  noticed  that  the  Druse  house,  a  small  structure,  was  kept 
tightly  closed,  in  marked  contrast  to  its  usual  appearance.  At 
the  same  time,  dense  masses  of  black  smoke  were  seen  issuing 
from  the  chimney.  This  continued  for  two  days,  and,  coupled 
with  the  circumstance  that  Mr.  Druse  was  not  seen  about  the 
premises,  led  to  considerable  speculation  and  not  a  little 
gossip  among  the  farmers  in  the  vicinity.  At  length  some  of 
the  bolder,  or  more  inquisitive,  of  the  neighbors,  repaired  to 
the  house  and  questioned  Mrs.  Druse  as  to  the  whereabouts  of 
her  husband.  She  answered  all  questions  readily,  and  without 
the  smallest  appearance  of  embarrassment.  She  declared 
that  he  had  gone  on  a  visit  to  certain  relatives  of  his  in  a  dis¬ 
tant  part  of  the  State.  Questioned  as  to  the  time  of  his 
expected  return,  Roxana  said  she  did  not  know;  he  would 
stay  some  time,  and  very  possibly  might  not  return  at  all. 


DRUSE  MURDER 


131 

This  did  not  at  all  satisfy  the  inquisitors,  but  rather  tended  to 
increase  their  suspicions  that  something  was  wrong.  John 
Druse  had  often  mentioned  these  relatives,  and  a  letter  was 
written  to  them  asking  about  him.  A  reply  was  soon 
received,  answering  that  the  missing  man  was  not  with  his 
relatives  and  had  not  been  heard  from  by  them. 

This  information  greatly  increased  the  excitement  in  the 
neighborhood.  The  authorities  were  not  communicated  with, 
but  certain  individuals  took  the  matter  in  hand  and  began  an 
investigation.  The  little  son  of  Roxana  Druse  was  inters 
viewed  at  length,  and  told  enough  to  indicate  clearly  that  a 
brutal  crime  had  been  perpetrated  by  his  mother  and  sister. 
Warrants  were  procured  and  the  two  women  locked  up  in  the 
county  jail.  Upon  her  arrest,  Mary  Druse  made  a  clean 
breast  of  the  affair,  and  told  of  a  crime  whose  details  sickened 
the  auditors,  and  the  recollection  of  which  still  causes  the 
people  of  the  Mohawk  valley  to  shudder  with  horror. 

According  to  her  story,  which  was  never  contradicted  and 
was  substantiated  by  that  of  her  brother,  Roxana  Druse  had 
grown  weary  of  her  husband.  He  was  an  amiable  man,  who 
had  always  treated  her  with  the  greatest  kindness,  but  he  was 
no  longer  very  useful,  and  she  foresaw  that  approaching  age 
would  soon  render  him  entirely  dependent  upon  his  family  for 
support.  That  she  had  come  to  personally  dislike,  if  not 
positively  hate,  him,  is  probable,  though  this  was  largely 
problematical,  since,  from  the  day  of  her  arrest  until  her 
death,  she  absolutely  refused  to  speak  a  single  word  upon  the 
subject.  John  Druse  had  been  killed  by  his  wife.  The  deed 
was  done  in  the  house  and  in  the  presence  of  her  daughter, 
her  son  being  at  the  time  in  another  apartment.  As  he  was 
in  the  act  of  entering  a  little  pantry  she  came  up  behind  him 
and  struck  him  on  the  head  with  an  axe,  killing  him  instantly. 
She  then  proceeded,  with  fiendish  coolness,  to  sever  the  head 
from  the  body,  employing  the  axe  for  that  purpose.  On  the 
trial  of  his  mother  and  sister,  the  little  boy  testified  that  he 
saw  his  father’s  severed  head  resting  on  a  platter  in  the 
pantry.  All  this,  and  what  was  to  follow,  was  not  the  result 
of  a  sudden  passion,  but  had  been  deliberately  planned  by  the 


132 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


depraved  woman,  who  had  discussed  the  matter  with  Mary  for 
days  and  weeks  before  the  plan  was  carried  into  execution. 

The  inhuman  deed  accomplished,  the  two  women  lost  no 
time  in  carrying  into  effect  their  carefully  matured  scheme 
for  disposing  of  the  remains.  And  here  the  author  would 
pause  in  the  recital  of  this  horrible  crime  to  suggest  that,  in 
his  own  personal  experience,  as  well  as  that  of  many  others,  it 
very  frequently  happens  that  homicides  are  detected  through 
the  unusual  methods  employed  to  hide  from  sight  the  remains 
of  the  murdered  person.  In  this  a  devilish  ingenuity  is  often 
exercised,  which  seems  to  argue  that  the  parties  concocting 
the  plans  had  derived  a  certain  pleasure  from  the  operation. 
As  already  suggested,  there  is  a  peculiar  though  gruesome 
fascination  about  the  details  of  murder  mysteries,  and,  in  the 
author’s  opinion,  this  often  possesses  the  perpetrator  of  crime 
and  leads  him  to  exercise  his  inventive  faculties  that  he  may 
do  something  altogether  out  of  the  ordinary,  when  far  safer, 
because  simpler,  means  were  available.  But  to  return  to  the 
case  in  hand. 

“Put  on  the  wash  boiler  and  fill  it  with  water,”  was  the 
command  of  the  Jezebel-like  woman,  when  she  had  completed 
the  first  act  of  the  fearful  tragedy.  To  clean  up  the  blood¬ 
stains,  the  reader  will  think,  and  see  nothing  strange  or 
unreasonable  in  that.  To  do  that,  probably,  but  principally  to 
boil  the  body  of  the  poor  old  man.  Following  their  pre¬ 
arranged  plan  of  procedure,  the  two  women,  under  the  man¬ 
agement  of  the  elder  and  dominating  one,  proceeded  to 
dismember  the  body  and  place  it  in  a  large  tin  boiler.  Here 
it  was  kept  above  a  heavy  fire  until  thoroughly  cooked.  This 
accomplished,  it  was  removed  and  burned  piecemeal  in  the 
kitchen  stove,  the  old  woman’s  idea  being  that  the  process  of 
boiling  would  reduce  to  a  minimum  the  odor  of  the  burning 
flesh  and  bones.  The  consummation  of  this  horrid  plan  occu¬ 
pied  two  full  days,  during  which  time  the  doors  and  windows 
of  the  farm-house  were  kept  tightly  closed.  In  the  meantime, 
the  tell-tale  smoke  and  sickening  smell  were  arousing  the  very 
suspicions  the  guilty  woman  hoped  to  avoid.  The  axe  with 
which  the  deed  was  committed  was  found  in  a  pond,  where 


DRUSE  MURDER 


i33 


Mary  reported  it  had  been  thrown.  The  head  was  not 
burned,  Roxana  claiming  that  it  would  be  unsafe  to  do  so  lest 
the  odor  of  the  burning  hair  might  attract  attention.  She 
disposed  of  it  herself,  and  as  she  refused  to  speak  on  the  sub¬ 
ject  and  Mary  had  not  been  told  what  was  done  with  it,  it  was 
never  discovered. 

Practically  no  defense  was  offered,  and  the  two  women 
were  promptly  convicted.  Mary  Druse  received  a  life  sen¬ 
tence,  and  her  mother  was  executed.  She  maintained  a 
sphinx-like  silence  and  ascended  the  scaffold  with  the  same 
horrid  composure  she  had  employed  while  murdering  her  hus¬ 
band  and  disposing  of  his  de»ad  body  by  methods  which,  taken 
altogether,  are  almost  without  a  parallel  in  the  history  of 
crime,  and  were  hardly  surpassed  by  the  horrid  acts  of  Luet- 
gert,  the  sausage-maker. 

This  case  is  peculiar  by  reason  of  the  absence  of  all  those 
motives,  some  of  which  are  usually  present  in  all  homicides. 
Roxana  Druse  had  not  led  a  criminal  life,  and  no  special 
wrong-doing  had  ever  been  charged  against  her  up  to  the  dis¬ 
covery  of  this  most  unnatural  act,  though  her  antecedents 
were  bad.  That  she  was  possessed  of  the  homicidal  impulse, 
cannot  be  questioned.  Undoubtedly,  it  was  this  that  rein¬ 
forced  and  supported  her  otherwise  weak  motive  for  putting 
her  husband  out  of  the  way.  Her  method  of  concealing  the 
crime  makes  strongly  in  the  same  direction.  Had  she  sent  the 
boy  away,  killed  the  old  man  and  buried  him  carefully  at 
night,  giving  out  to  the  neighbors  that  he  had  left  home  as  the 
result  of  a  quarrel,  declaring  that  he  would  never  return,  her 
dark  deed  might  have  gone  undetected.  Doubtless  this  plain, 
matter-of-fact  method  suggested  itself  to  her  morbid  and  per¬ 
verted  mind,  but  was  rejected  for  one  containing  elements  of 
unnatural  excitement,  from  which  she  expected  to  derive  posi¬ 
tive  pleasure.  That  her  daughter  became  her  willing  tool 
and  accomplice,  is  not  at  all  surprising,  since  she  may  fairly 
be  supposed  to  have  inherited  the  natural  disposition  and 
homicidal  impulse  of  her  mother.  Roxana  Druse  was  disliked 
by  her  neighbors  and  acquaintances,  yet  among  them  all  not 
one  imagined  her  capable  of  the  fiendish  act  she  was  clearly 


1 


134 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


proven  to  have  committed.  But  all  the  time  the  germ  was 
present,  and  a  very  insignificant  motive  served  to  suddenly 
develop  it  to  a  point  where  it  became  a  most  potent  power  for 
evil. 

It  seems  not  unlikely  that  in  this  case,  the  novel  method 
for  disposing  of  the  body  may  have  first  suggested  the  crime 
to  the  mind  of  the  depraved  woman.  Having  heard,  or  con¬ 
ceived,  the  theory  that  boiled  flesh  gives  out  little  odor  when 
burned,  it  may  have  preyed  upon  her  until  it  became  an 
almost  irresistible  attraction,  all-powerful  by  reason  of  its  very 
gruesomeness.  Such  a  conclusion  presupposes  the  absence  of 
all  moral  sensibility,  coupled  with  a  strong  predisposition  to 
take  human  life,  which  conditions  were  doubtless  present  in 
the  miserable  woman  referred  to.  It  is  no  answer  to  this 
suggestion  to  say  that  it  means  a  reversal  of  ordinary  methods 
of  thought  and  action,  for  it  applies  only  to  those  who  are 
thoroughly  perverted  and  depraved. 


I 


CHAPTER  IX 

CUPIDITY— BURKING— MAXWELL-PRELLER  CASE 

The  term  “burking”  was  derived  from  the  name  of  William 
Burke,  to  whom  belongs  the  awful  notoriety  of  originating  the 
business — we  use  the  word  business,  for  it  became  a  veritable 
trade — of  murdering  human  beings  that  he  might  dispose  of 
their  bodies  as  “subjects”  for  dissection  in  medical  colleges. 
A  more  despicable  calling  than  this  could  hardly  be  invented, 
or  even  conceived.  The  discovery  of  a  long  series  of  homi¬ 
cides,  committed  for  this  purpose,  threw  the  civilized  world 
into  a  state  of  horror  and  excitement  and  identified  the  name 
of  the  wretch  with  a  crime,  no  instance  of  which  has  been 
brought  to  light  within  recent  years. 

The  horrible  events  we  are  called  upon  to  chronicle 
occurred  in  Edinburgh,  in  the  year  1828.  The  residents  of 
the  metropolis  of  Scotland  had  long  been  greatly  exercised 
over  the  sudden  disappearance  of  people  occupying  the  lower 
walks  of  life,  of  whom  not  the  slightest  trace  was  afterwards 
obtainable.  Tramps,  with  whom  Scotland  was  well  supplied, 
appeared  in  Edinburgh,  attracted  for  a  few  days  the  attention 
of  the  police  and  disappeared,  without  apparent  reason,  and  as 
effectually  as  if  they  had  been  sunk  in  the  ocean.  Irish  hay¬ 
makers  and  farm  laborers,  on  their  way  to  work  in  the  agri¬ 
cultural  districts  of  the  Lowlands,  often  vanished  from  the 
sight  of  their  companions  in  Edinburgh,  and  no  amount  of 
searching  revealed  a  trace  of  them.  These  people  were  all 
poor,  many  of  them  entirely  penniless,  and  robbery  could  not 
have  been  the  motive  of  their  murder,  if  indeed  they  had  been 
killed.  The  case  that  excited  the  widest  and  deepest  interest 
was  the  disappearance  from  his  accustomed  haunts  of  a  poor 
idiot,  called  Daft  Jamie,  who  was  widely  known  in  the  city. 

135 


1 36 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


As  is  quite  well  understood,  the  Scotch  people  have  a  soft 
place  in  their  hearts  for  those  who  have  been  deprived  of  their 
just  share  of  intelligence,  and  never  molest  or  annoy,  but 
always  aid  and  encourage  an  idiot,  or  feeble-minded  person. 
This  incident  aroused  universal  interest,  revived  the  numer¬ 
ous  stories  of  mysterious  disappearances,  and  put  the  police 
upon  a  little  more  diligent  inquiry. 

Not  long  after  this  became  public,  toward  the  close  of 
October,  1828,  an  Irish  beggar,  named  Mary  Campbell,  who 
had  long  frequented  certain  localities,  was  suddenly  missed. 
Although  a  poor  woman,  she  had  some  friends  who  instituted 
an  inquiry.  At  that  time,  as  now,  Edinburgh  was  justly 
celebrated  for  the  excellence  of  the  anatomical  instruction 
furnished  by  its  medical  colleges,  and  a  search  was  made  among 
the  various  dissecting  rooms  of  the  city.  Her  remains  were 
speedily  found  in  the  apartments  of  Dr.  Knox,  a  distinguished 
anatomist,  and  were  positively  identified.  An  investigation 
by  medical  experts,  as  to  the  cause  of  her  death,  led  to  the 
conclusion  that  she  had  died  from  suffocation,  which  rendered 
it  fairly  certain  that  she  had  been  murdered,  since  suffocation 
is  rarely  the  cause  of  natural  death. 

The  next  step  was  to  ascertain  the  person  from  whom  the 
body  had  been  purchased.  At  that  time  there  was  no  legal 
provision  by  which  subjects  for  dissection  could  be  secured. 
Occasionally  the  remains  of  those  executed  were  directed  to  be 
turned  over  to  some  medical  college,  but  this  afforded  a  very 
uncertain  and  entirely  inadequate  source  of  supply.  This  had 
led  to,  or  at  least  greatly  stimulated,  the  stealing  of  bodies,  a 
practice  openly  encouraged  by  the  professors  of  anatomy  who 
had  no  other  means  of  supplying  the  pressing  demand.  The 
long  wars  in  which  Great  Britain  had  been  engaged  being 
terminated,  an  impetus  was  given  to  professional  education, 
and  the  demand  for  subjects  increased  until  it  could  not  be 
supplied.  Resurrectionists  were  everywhere  busy,  and  yet 
students  were  often  obliged  to  wait  months  for  an  oppor¬ 
tunity  to  do  their  dissecting,  without  which  they  were  not 
permitted  to  graduate. 

For  the  successful  practice  of  “burking”  by  its  originator 


C  U  P I  D  I T  Y— B  U  R  K I  N  G 


137 


and  his  accomplices,  the  medical  men  of  Edinburgh  were,  no 
doubt,  largely  to  blame.  So  eager  were  they  to  secure  bodies 
that  they  asked  no  questions  and  made  no  very  deep  scrutiny  as 
to  how  the  one  offered  had  been  denrivedof  life.  The  defense 
of  the  doctors  was  that  men  who  would  steal  bodies  would 
lie,  and  hence  there  was  no  use  in  questioning  them. 

In  the  case  of  Mary  Campbell,  no  difficulty  was  experi¬ 
enced  in  locating  the  person  who  had  furnished  the  body. 
The  porter  of  Doctor  Knox,  a  man  named  Patterson,  was 
well  acquainted  with  William  Burke,  and  a  seeming  partner  of 
his  named  Hare,  from  whom  the  body  had  been  secured,  and 
from  whom  he  had  purchased  many  others.  He  stated  that 
on  November  1st,  he  had  gone  by  appointment  to  a  house 
occupied  by  Burke,  in  a  low  street.  Here  he  met  a  Mrs. 
McDougal,  who  passed  as  the  wife  of  Burke,  and  a  Mrs.  Laird, 
who  was  known  as  the  wife  of  Hare.  They  had  shown  him 
the  body  of  the  mendicant,  hidden  under  some  straw,  and  he 
had  purchased  it,  paying  five  pounds  down  and  promising 
three  pounds  more  if  it  turned  out  satisfactory. 

As  soon  as  the  four  people  were  arrested,  a  man  named 
Gray,  and  his  wife,  poor  people  who  were  only  temporarily  in 
the  city,  called  upon  the  police  and  made  statements  of  a  char¬ 
acter  most  damaging  to  the  accused  persons.  They  had 
stopped  at  Burke’s  miserable  quarters  for  the  night,  and  had 
seen  the  entire  party  drinking  and  dancing  together.  In  the 
morning  they  saw  the  dead  body  of  Mrs.  Campbell,  and, 
terror-stricken,  quitted  the  premises.  The  human  trap — for 
it  was  nothing  else — consisted  of  two  rooms.  Burke  let  out  his 
dilapidated  lodgings  to  such  as  were  able  to  pay,  and  thus 
secured  an  opportunity  to  murder  those  he  deemed  fitted  for 
the  purpose,  provided  they  were  strangers  in  the  city.  In  all 
this  he  was  ably  seconded  by  Hare,  who  seemed  to  have  been 
fully  as  detestable  as  himself.  When  Hare  found  that  the 
authorities  had  secured  much  evidence  against  the  entire  party 
he  offered  to  make  disclosures  that  would  send  his  accomplice 
to  the  gallows,  provided  he  was  insured  immunity  from  pun¬ 
ishment.  After  some  delay,  the  authorities  decided  to  permit 
Hare  to  turn  king’s  evidence,  it  being  doubtful  if  they  would 


138 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


be  able  to  secure  a  conviction  against  any  of  the  accused 
unless  this  was  done.  Mrs.  Laird  was  shown  to  have  had  no 
guilty  connection  with  the  matter,  and  she  was  discharged 
from  custody. 

On  December  23,  1829,  William  Burke  and  Helen 

McDougal  were  put  on  trial  for  the  murder  of  Mary  Campbell, 
before  the  High  Court  of  Justiciary,  in  Edinburgh.  No  trial 
during  the  present  century,  with  the  possible  exception  of 
that  of  William  Palmer,  has  excited  the  people  of  Great  Britain 
as  this  one  did.  The  inhabitants  of  Edinburgh  were  almost 
frenzied  and  extra  precautions  were  necessarily  taken  to  pre¬ 
vent  a  jail-breaking  and  lynching.  Hare  lived  up  to  his  side 
of  the  bargain,  and  testified  fully  and  completely.  Mary 
Campbell  had  been  suffocated  by  Burke,  he  declared.  He 
entered  into  the  most  minute  details  of  this  and  other  cases. 

1 

From  the  best  evidence  that  could  be  obtained  from  Hare  and 
the  subsequent  confession  of  Burke,  it  appears  that  they  must 
have  murdered  and  sold  the  bodies  of  at  least  thirty  people. 
Some  of  the  murders  were  committed  in  Burke’s  rooms,  but 
generally  they  were  perpetrated  in  the  premises — literally  a 
den — occupied  by  Hare.  It  appeared  that  Mrs.  McDougal  was 
never  actually  present  when  a  murder  was  committed,  and  a 
“Scotch  verdict’’  of  “not  proven”  was  entered  in  her  case. 
Upon  her  release,  she  presented  herself  in  her  old  haunts  in 
the  slums  of  Edinburgh,  but  being  recognized,  was  set  upon 
by  the  populace,  and  barely  escaped  with  her  life.  After  that 
she  quitted  the  city,  and  was  never  again  heard  of. 

Burke  was  convicted  and  sentenced  to  death.  Then  the 
question  of  releasing  Hare  arose,  and  was  warmly  discussed. 
The  public  of  the  entire  kingdom  clamored  for  his  trial  and 
death,  but  the  court  officers  decided  that  they  must  stand  by 
their  bargain  and  give  him  immunity.  When  Hare  learned 
that  he  was  to  be  set  free  he  exulted  in  the  most  extravagant 
manner,  and  nearly  died  from  the  effects  of  his  emotions.  It 
was  known  that  if  publicly  released  from  the  prison  he  would 
be  torn  in  pieces  by  the  enraged  populace,  so,  after  repeated 
consultations  on  the  part  of  the  authorities,  he  was  allowed 
to  quit  the  jail  and  the  city  unobserved.  Like  his  many 


C  U  P I  D  I T  Y— B  U  R  K I  N  G 


i39 


victims,  he  disappeared  from  view  and  was  never  heard  of 
afterwards. 

After  his  conviction  and  sentence,  Burke  made  a  full  and 
complete  confession,  which  agreed  in  most  particulars  with 
the  story  told  by  Hare,  and  was  doubtless  substantially  correct. 
Although  of  a  revolting  character,  this  account  would  hardly 
be  complete  without  something  touching  the  methods  pursued 
by  these  inhuman  wretches.  We  present  the  confession  of 
Burke,  substantially  as  given  by  Camden  Pelham,  Esq.,  bar¬ 
rister  at  law,  in  his  report  of  this  remarkable  case. 

Being  asked  how,  having  once  been  under  religious  influ¬ 
ences  and  impressions,  he  had  ever  formed  the  idea  of  such 
cold-blooded,  systematic  murders,  Burke  replied  that  he  did 
not  exactly  know:  but  that,  becoming  addicted  to  drink,  living 
in  open  adultery  and  associating  continually  with  the  most 
abandoned  characters,  he  gradually  became  hardened  and 
desperate,  gave  up  attending  chapel  or  any  place  of  religious 
worship,  shunned  the  face  of  a  priest,  and  being  constantly 
familiar  with  every  species  of  wickedness,  he  at  length  grew 
indifferent  as  to  what  he  did,  and  was  ready  to  commit  any 
crime. 

He  was  asked  how  long  he  had  been  engaged  in  this 
murderous  traffic,  to  which  he  answered,  “From  Christmas 
1827,  till  the  murder  of  the  woman  Campbell  in  October  last.” 
“How  many  persons  have  you  murdered,  or  been  concerned  in 
murdering,  during  this  time?  Were  they  thirty  in  all?” 
“Not  so  many;  not  so  many,  I  assure  you.”  “How  many?” 
He  answered  this  question,  but  the  answer  was,  for  a  reason 
perfectly  satisfactory,  reserved. 

“Had  you  any  accomplices?”  “None  but  Hare ;  we  always 
took  care  when  we  were  going  to  commit  murder  that  no  one 
else  should  be  present,  that  no  one  could  swear  he  saw  the 
deed  done.  The  women  might  suspect  what  we  were  about, 
but  we  always  put  them  out  of  the  way  when  we  were  going 
to  do  it.  They  never  saw  us  commit  any  of  the  murders.  One 
of  the  murders  was  done  in  Broggan’s  house  when  he  was  out ; 
but  before  he  returned,  the  thing  was  finished,  and  the  body 
put  in  a  box.  Broggan  evidently  suspected  something,  for  he 


140 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


appeared  much  agitated  and  entreated  us  to  take  the  box 
away,  but  he  was  in  no  way  connected  with  it.” 

“You  have  already  told  me  that  you  were  engaged  in  these 
atrocities  from  Christmas,  1827,  till  the  end  of  October,  1828; 
were  you  associated  with  Hare  all  that  time?”  “Yes,  we 

began  by  selling  to  Dr.  - the  body  of  a  woman  who  had 

died  a  natural  death  in  Hare’s  house.  We  got  ten  pounds  for 
it.  After  this  we  began  the  murders,  and  all  the  rest  of  the 
bodies  we  sold  to  him  were  murdered.” 

“In  what  place  were  those  murders  generally  committed?” 
“They  were  mostly  committed  in  Hare’s  house,  which  was 
very  convenient  for  the  purpose,  as  it  consisted  of  a  room  and 
a  kitchen;  Daft  Jamie  was  murdered  there;  the  story  told  of 
his  murder  is  incorrect.  Hare  began  to  struggle  with  him, 
and  they  fell  and  rolled  together  on  the  floor ;  then  I  went  to 
Hare’s  assistance,  and  we  finished  him,  though  with  much 
difficulty.  I  committed  one  murder  in  the  country;  it  was  in 
last  harvest;  all  the  rest  were  done  in  conjunction  with 
Hare.” 

“By  what  means  were  these  fearful  atrocities  perpetrated?” 
“By  suffocation.  We  made  the  persons  drunk,  and  then 
suffocated  them  by  holding  the  nostrils  and  mouth,  and  get¬ 
ting  on  the  body;  sometimes  I  held  the  mouth  and  nose,  while 
Hare  knelt  upon  the  body;  and  sometimes  Hare  did  the  hold¬ 
ing  while  I  placed  myself  upon  the  body.  Hare  has  perjured 
himself  by  what  he  said  at  the  trial  about  the  murder  of 
Campbell ,  he  did  not  sit  by  while  I  did  it,  as  he  says,  but  was 
on  the  body,  assisting  me  with  all  his  might.  We  sometimes 
used  a  pillow,  but  did  not  in  this  case.” 

“Now,  Burke,  answer  me  this  question;  were  you  tutored 
or  instructed,  or  did  you  receive  hints  from  any  one,  as  to  the 
mode  of  committing  murder?”  “No,  except  from  Hare.  We 
often  spoke  about  it,  and  agreed  that  suffocation  was  the  best 
way;  Hare  said  so,  and  I  agreed  with  him.  We  generally  did 
it  by  suffocation.  *  ’ 

“Did  you  receive  any  encouragement  to  commit,  or  perse¬ 
vere  in  committing  these  atrocities?”  “Yes,  we  were  fre¬ 
quently  told  by  Patterson  that  he  would  take  as  many  bodies 


CUPIDITY— BURKING 


141 

as  we  could  get  for  him.  When  we  got  one,  he  always  told  us 
to  get  more.” 

“To  whom  were  the  bodies  so  murdered  sold?”  “To 

Dr. - .  We  took  the  bodies  to  his  rooms,  and  then  went  to 

his  house  to  receive  the  money  for  them.  Sometimes  he  paid 
us  himself,  sometimes  we  were  paid  by  his  assistants.  No 
questions  were  ever  asked  as  to  the  mode  in  which  we  had 
come  by  the  bodies.  We  had  nothing  to  do  but  leave  the  body 
at  his  rooms  and  go  and  get  the  money.’’ 

“Did  you  ever,  upon  any  occasion,  sell  a  body  or  bodies  to 
any  other  lecturer  in  this  place?”  “Never.  We  knew  no 
other.’’ 

“You  have  been  a  resurrectionist,  I  understand?’’  “No, 
neither  Hare  nor  myself  ever  got  a  body  from  a  churchyard. 
All  we  sold  were  murdered,  save  the  first  one,  which  was  that 
of  the  woman  who  died  a  natural  death  in  Hare’s  house.  We 
began  with  that;  our  crimes  then  commenced.  The  victims 
we  selected  were  generally  elderly  people.  They  could  be 
more  easily  disposed  of  than  persons  in  the  vigor  of  youth.” 

Of  the  truth  of  these  monstrous  disclosures  there  cannot  be 
the  smallest  doubt.  The  general  impression  in  Edinburgh 
was  that  in  the  beginning  Burke  had  been  a  dupe  of  Hare’s, 
who  had  practiced  the  same  horrid  trade  before  the  two  fell 
into  companionship.  It  was  this  idea  that  made  the  people  so 
frantic  at  Hare’s  escape. 

Burke  was  executed  on  Wednesday,  January  28,  1829.  He 
was  hooted  by  the  populace  while  on  the  scaffold,  and  seemed 
anxious  that  the  hanging  be  hurried  that  he  might  escape 
what  must  have  been  a  fearful  torture.  Before  his  death  he 
professed  great  contrition  for  his  numerous  crimes. 

The  fearful  crimes  of  Burke  and  Hare  were  not  without 
some  compensation  to  the  world.  Burke  was  executed  on 
January  28th,  and  on  the  12th  of  the  following  month  notice 
was  given  that  the  whole  matter  was  to  be  brought  before  the 
House  of  Commons.  This  movement  raised  a  veritable  storm 
and  the  subject  filled  the  newspapers  to  the  exclusion  of 
almost  everything  else.  After  much  discussion  the  matter 
was  permitted  to  rest  in  abeyance  until  the  latter  part  of  1831, 


142 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


when  a  similar  occurrence  again  aroused  the  nation.  This 
was  in  London.  It  had  long  been  believed  that  such  horrid 
things  were  done  in  that  city,  but  no  well  authenticated 
instance  of  it  had  ever  been  brought  to  light. 

On  the  5th  of  November,  1831,  William  Hill,  the  porter  at 
the  dissecting  room  of  King’s  College,  London,  answered  a 
ring  at  the  bell,  and  found  two  men  at  the  door  who  said  that 
they  had  a  body  to  sell.  These  men,  as  afterwards  appeared, 
were  John  Bishop  and  James  May.  After  some  dickering  as 
to  the  price,  the  two  men  went  away,  but  soon  returned  with 
a  sack  which  contained  the  body  of  a  boy  about  fourteen 
years  of  age.  Hill  noticed  that  it  was  fresh,  that  the  hands 
were  clenched,  and  that  it  had,  in  all  probability,  never  been 
placed  in  a  coffin.  Hill  saw  Mr.  Partridge,  the  demonstrator 
of  anatomy,  who  decided  that  the  men  should  be  arrested. 
They  were  detained  while  change  for  a  fifty  pound  note  was 
obtained.  In  the  meantime  the  police  were  sent  for,  and  the 
two  men  taken  into  custody.  A  man  named  Thomas  Williams 
was  at  once  implicated  in  the  affair,  and  the  three  were 
placed  on  trial.  The  evidence  was  very  full  and  complete, 
leaving  no  apparent  doubt  as  to  the  guilt  of  the  three  men, 
and  they  were  convicted  and  sentenced  to  death. 

After  their  conviction,  Bishop  and  Williams  made  a  full 
confession  which  exonerated  May  from  any  share  in  the 
murder.  There  had  been  elements  of  weakness  in  the  case 
made  against  him,  and  he  was  accordingly  released.  The 
news  almost  cost  him  his  life.  He  fell  to  the  ground  and 
was  seized  with  convulsions.  It  was  thought  that  he  would 
surely  die,  but  he  finally  recovered.  The  two  guilty  wretches 
admitted  that  they  had  murdered  the  boy.  They  had 
decoyed  him  to  the  house  of  Williams  with  the  promise  of 
giving  him  work.  Having  rendered  him  insensible  by  giving 
him  a  cup  of  rum,  into  which  had  been  poured  a  quantity  of 
laudanum,  they  took  him  into  the  yard,  tied  a  rope  to  his  feet 
and  slid  him  into  a  well,  where  he  was  speedily  drowned. 
In  about  three-quarters  of  an  hour  they  drew  the  body  out. 
The  next  morning,  May  came  in  and  they  all  began  drinking 
together.  May  was  induced  to  go  with  Bishop  to  dispose  of 


MAXWELL-PRELLER  CASE 


i43 


the  body.  He  seems  to  have  had  no  knowledge  that  a  crime 
had  been  committed,  and  was  to  receive  no  portion  of  the 
price,  except  repayment  for  the  amount  he  had  expended  for 
liquor. 

The  two  men  confessed  that  they  had  murdered  two  other 
persons  and  sold  their  bodies  for  dissection.  One,  a  woman 
named  Fanny  Pigburn,  they  killed  in  identically  the  same 
manner  as  they  had  the  boy  for  whose  murder  they  were 
convicted.  They  also  murdered,  for  the  same  awful  purpose, 
a  boy  named  Cunningham.  They  adopted  the  same  methods 
they  had  employed  with  the  woman  and  the  other  boy. 
Bishop  admitted  that  he  had  been  a  “body-snatcher”  for 
twelve  years,  during  which  time  he  had  disposed  of  from  five 
hundred  to  one  thousand  stolen  bodies,  but  that  the  three 
murders  were  all  he  had  ever  committed.  May  had  been  a 
“resurrectionist”  for  years,  but  seems  to  have  been  innocent 
of  murder. 

Bishop  and  Williams,  the  latter’s  real  name  being  Head, 
were  executed  December  5,  1831.  It  was  estimated  that  fully 
thirty  thousand  people  had  assembled  to  witness  the  act. 
The  pressure  was  so  great  that  many  people  were  injured, 
some  of  them  severely.  Upward  of  twenty  were  carried  to 
one  hospital  before  half-past  seven  o’clock  in  the  morning. 

It  was  believed  by  the  authorities  that  Bishop  and  Williams 
did  not  confess  the  full  enormity  of  their  crimes,  and  that 
many  more  murders  could  have  rightly  been  laid  to  their 
charge.  The  number,  however,  was  amply  sufficient  to 
arouse  the  nation,  and  Parliament  speedily  enacted  a  law  by 
which  unclaimed  bodies  in  public  institutions  might  be  turned 
over  to  the  anatomists  for  purposes  of  dissection.  This  at 
once  solved  the  problem,  “burking”  disappeared,  and  “body- 
snatching”  is  almost  unknown  in  Great  Britain. 

About  the  first  of  April,  1885,  two  men,  young,  intellectual 
looking,  well  dressed,  and  presenting  in  every  regard  a  most 
respectable  and  prepossessing  appearance,  separately  entered 
the  Southern  Hotel,  St.  Louis,  and  registered  under  the 
names  of  C.  Arthur  Preller  and  W.  H.  Lennox  Maxwell. 
During  the  two  weeks  that  they  remained  guests  of  the  hotel, 


144 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


they  were  much  together,  frequently  inquired  after  each  other 
and  appeared  to  be  on  terms  of  the  closest  intimacy.  All  that 
the  hotel  people  knew  about  them  was  obtained  from  Max¬ 
well,  who  informed  one  of  the  clerks  that  Preller  and  himself 
were  on  their  way  to  Auckland,  New  Zealand. 

On  Monday,  April  15th,  following  Easter  Sunday,  Maxwell 
paid  his  bill  and  quitted  the  hotel.  On  the  same  day  Preller 
disappeared.  He  had  not  paid  his  bill  or  surrendered  his 
room,  but  this  occasioned  neither  alarm  nor  suspicion.  All 
hotel  men  know  that  guests,  especially  young  men,  are  liable 
to  absent  themselves  from  their  hotels,  sometimes  for  days 
together;  besides,  Preller  had  every  appearance  of  being 
possessed  of  wealth ;  he  had  displayed  quite  a  sum  of  money, 
and  had  ample  baggage  in  the  house  to  secure  the  payment  of 
his  indebtedness.  Several  days  passed  without  any  suspicion 
being  aroused.  At  length  some  of  the  guests  and  employes 
noticed  a  sickening  odor  which  seemed  to  emanate  from  the 
room  the'  absent  man  had  occupied,  and  where  his  effects  still 
remained.  The  door  being  opened,  it  was  apparent  that  the 
stench  proceeded  from  a  large  zinc  trunk  which  stood  in  one 
corner  of  the  apartment.  It  was  at  once  carried  downstairs 
and  forced  open.  A  glance  convinced  the  horrified  searchers 
that  it  was  a  case  for  the  police.  It  contained  the  body  of  a 
man  which  was  subsequently,  though  not  without  difficulty, 
identified  as  that  of  the  missing  guest,  C.  Arthur  Preller. 

The  corpse,  which  was  in  an  advanced  stage  of  decomposi¬ 
tion,  was  entirely  nude,  with  the  exception  of  an  under  gar¬ 
ment,  attached  to  which  was  a  scrap  of  paper  bearing  in  a 
bold,  though  apparently  disguised  hand,  the  words:  “So 
perish  all  traitors  to  the  great  cause.”  A  careful  examination 
of  the  remains  revealed  no  marks  of  violence,  and,  as  it  was 
evidently  a  case  of  murder,  the  conclusion  reached  by  the 
police  was  that  death  had  resulted  from  the  administration  of 
poison. 

As  a  matter  of  course,  but  one  theory  could  be  entertained 
as  to  the  identity  of  the  murderer.  The  dead  man’s  traveling 
companion  at  once  fell  under  a  suspicion,  amounting  almost 
to  a  certainty,  that  he  was  the  man  wanted.  Maxwell  had 


MAXWELL-PRELLER  CASE  145 

several  days’  start  of  the  officers,  but,  acting  on  the  suggestion 
he  had  himself  made  that  he  and  his  comrade  were  bound  for 
New  Zealand,  they  at  once  communicated  with  the  authorities 
in  San  Francisco,  who  instituted  an  immediate  search,  and, 
from  the  description  that  had  been  wired,  speedily  traced 
him  to  a  hotel,  where  he  had  posed  as  a  Frenchman,  and  regis¬ 
tered  under  an  assumed  name.  He  had  declined  to  converse 
in  the  French  language,  and  this  had  raised  suspicions  against 
him.  Further  inquiry  developed  the  fact  that,  under  his 
assumed  name,  he  had  purchased  a  steerage  ticket  for  Auck¬ 
land,  New  Zealand.  Upon  the  arrival  of  the  vessel  at 
Auckland,  he  was  arrested  and  held  to  await  the  arrival  of 
officers  from  St.  Louis,  who  fully  identified  and  brought  him 
back  to  this  country. 

Upon  his  arrival  in  St.  Louis,  he  strenuously  denied  that 
he  was  Maxwell,  and  maintained,  as  he  had  done  in  San 
Francisco,  that  he  was  a  Frenchman.  His  accent,  which  was 
unmistakably  Scotch,  gave  the  lie  to  this  assertion.  When 
asked  if  he  spoke  French,  he  answered  that  he  spoke  a 
Norman  dialect,  but  when  some  one  present  volunteered  to 
converse  with  him  in  that  dialect,  he  declined  to  say  anything 
further  on  the  subject.  Finding  himself  unable  to  maintain 
the  position  he  had  assumed,  and  being  confronted  with  some 
clothing  found  in  his  possession  in  New  Zealand,  which  were 
marked  “C.  A.  P.,”  the  initials  of  Preller’s  name,  he 
admitted  that  his  name  was  Maxwell,  and  that  he  had  come 
to  the  Southern  Hotel  at  nearly  the  same  time  as  Preller,  but 
he  strenuously  denied  that  the  murdered  man  was  he. 

In  the  meantime  it  had  been  ascertained  that  Maxwell, 
who  was  a  physician  by  profession,  though  it  appeared  that 
he  was  merely  traveling  for  pleasure,  had,  on  Easter  Sunday, 
purchased  at  a  drug  store  in  the  neighborhood  of  his  hotel, 
four  ounces  of  chloroform,  telling  the  clerk  that  he  wished  to 
use  it  in  the  performance  of  an  operation  he  was  about  to 
undertake.  It  appeared  that  not  long  after  making  this  pur¬ 
chase  he  had  returned  to  the  drug  store  and  excitedly  asked 
for  two  ounces  more,  which  was  given  him.  Confronted  with 
this  evidence,  the  accused  admitted  that  he  had  purchased  the 


146 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


chloroform  as  reported,  but  denied  that  he  had  manifested  any 
indication  of  excitement.  This  statement  was  sustained 
somewhat  by  his  conduct  in  the  hotel  the  evening  following 
the  death  of  Preller.  Everything  he  had  done  and  said  indi¬ 
cated  the  most  decided  coolness.  While  eating  a  hearty 
supper  he  had  conversed  in  an  apparently  light-hearted  way 
with  the  waiter  who  served  him,  alluding  laughingly  to  cer¬ 
tain  frolics  in  which  he  had  recently  been  engaged. 

Maxwell  was  indicted  for  the  murder,  but  was  not  brought 
to  trial  until  May,  1886,  thirteen  months  after  the  discovery 
of  the  crime.  In  the  meantime  it  was  discovered  that  he  had 
registered  at  the  Southern  Hotel  under  an  alias,  and  that  his 
real  name  was  Hugh  M.  Brooks.  His  father,  a  reputable  man 
of  some  wealth,  hearing  of  the  terrible  predicament  in  which 
his  son  was  placed,  came  from  England  to  St.  Louis,  and 
employed  able  counsel  to  conduct  his  defense. 

The  State  made  a  strong  case  against  the  accused,  although 
the  proof  as  to  the  identity  of  the  body  was  a  trifle  weak.  In 
the  meantime  strong  efforts  had  been  made  to  show  that 
Preller  was  still  alive,  and  had  been  seen  at  various  points  in 
the  East.  The  press  was  filled  with  such  reports,  which, 
when  run  down,  amounted  to  nothing  tangible,  but  still  served 
to  increase  the  public  interest  in  a  case  that  had  already 
attracted  wo  rid- wide  attention. 

At  length  the  day  came  when  Brooks,  or  Maxwell,  as  he 
will  continue  to  be  called  here,  was  to  take  the  stand  in  his 
own  defense.  The  courtroom  was  crowded  to  suffocation,  and 
expectation  was  on  tiptoe.  There  is  always  a  morbid  curi¬ 
osity  to  listen  to  the  confession  or  testimony  of  an  accused 
murderer,  and  in  the  present  case  this  was  intensified  by  the 
circumstance  that,  during  the  long  months  he  had  lain  in  jail, 
not  a  word  about  Preller  had  passed  his  lips.  He  would  con¬ 
verse  freely  and  entertainingly  on  any  other  subject,  but  as  to 
the  crime  of  which  he  stood  charged  his  lips  were  tightly 
sealed.  In  his  testimony  Maxwell  was  very  guarded,  and  told 
a  story  upholding  the  theory  already  advanced  in  his  defense. 
He  maintained  earnestly  and  with  great  show  of  candor  that 
the  death  of  Preller,  which  he  acknowledged  was  due  to 


MAXWELL-PRELLER  CASE 


147 


him,  had  been  entirely  accidental.  His  friend  Preller,  he 
explained,  had  long  been  afflicted  with  a  disease  of  a  private 
nature,  and  had  requested  the  witness  to  treat  him  in  a  pro¬ 
fessional  way.  After  consulting  some  medical  authorities,  he 
decided  to  put  him  under  the  influence  of  chloroform  that  he 
might  conduct  the  necessary  examination  without  pain  to  the 
patient.  Accordingly,  he  went  to  a  neighboring  drug  store 
and  procured  four  ounces  of  the  fluid.  Before  Preller  was 
entirely  unconscious,  the  witness  accidentally  overturned  the 
bottle,  and  had  been  obliged  to  go  hurriedly  for  a  fresh 
supply.  Returning,  he  continued  to  administer  the  anesthetic, 
when,  suddenly,  and  to  his  utter  consternation,  he  discovered 
that  his  patient  was  in  a  dying  condition.  He  used  every 
means  in  his  power  to  revive  the  unfortunate  man,  but  without 
avail,  and  in  a  few  minutes  his  patient  was  dead. 

Continuing,  the  witness  stated  that  he  was  unacquainted 
with  the  laws  of  this  country,  and  supposed  that  he  could  not 
be  permitted  to  testify  in  his  own  behalf,  in  the  event  of  his 
being  put  on  trial  for  his  life,  as  is  the  case  in  England. 
Accordingly  he  resolved  to  flee.  He  was  some  time,  more 
than  a  day,  in  reaching  this  conclusion.  In  the  meantime  he 
had  been  drinking  heavily,  and  was  constantly  under  the 
influence  of  liquor.  Before  leaving  his  room,  however,  he 
had  removed  everything  from  his  trunk  and  tumbled  the  body 
into  it.  Later  he  returned,  opened  the  trunk,  cut  off  the  dead 
man’s  mustache,  and  wrote  and  placed  the  placard  upon  the 
corpse.  This  was  about  midnight.  He  spent  the  remainder 
of  the  night  in  the  room  with  the  dead  body,  but  acknowl¬ 
edged  that  he  did  not  sleep.  He  afterwards  placed  a  pair  of 
drawers  upon  the  body,  and  made  some  superficial  cuts  on 
the  breast  with  a  scalpel.  He  did  this,  he  averred,  to  puzzle 
the  police  after  he  had  definitely  determined  to  fly.  As  to 
why  he  did  not  have  the  trunk  removed  from  the  hotel  and 
checked  to  some  other  city  or  town,  Maxwell  offered  no  explana¬ 
tion.  He  admitted  that  he  took  possession  of  the  dead  man’s 
money,  which,  according  to  his  statement,  he  did  not  count, 
but  thought  amounted  to  about  six  hundred  dollars ;  when  he 
reached  St.  Louis  he  had  only  about  fifty  dollars  of  his  own. 


I 


148  MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 

In  a  certain  way  the  defense  offered  for  Maxwell  was 
similar  to  that  advanced  in  the  famous  case  of  Dr.  John  W. 
Webster,  who  was  tried  and  convicted  in  Boston  in  1850  for 
the  murder  of  Dr.  John  Parkman,  which  is  given  in  detail 
elsewhere  in  this  volume.  After  his  conviction  Dr.  Webster 
admitted  the  killing,  but  claimed  that  it  was  unintentional. 
Pie  had  attempted  to  conceal  the  evidences  of  his  crime  by 
burning  the  body.  In  both  instances,  the  guilty  men  seem  to 
have  “lost  their  heads”  and  adopted  courses  that  would  never 
have  occurred  to  them  while  in  the  calm  possession  of  their 
faculties.  It  is  the  experience  and  the  observation  of  the 
author  that  this  often  happens.  Men  who  are  amateurs  in  the 
commission  of  terrible  crimes  will  often  work  up  a  case  with 
consummate  skill,  and  then,  when  the  deed  is  committed,  lose 
all  self-control  and  do  the  most  foolish  things,  calculated  to 
make  known  their  guilt.  With  hardened  criminals,  who  have 
long  pursued  courses  of  crime,  the  case  is  generally  different, 
and  the  cunning  which  planned  the  deed  does  not  desert  the 
perpetrators. 

Maxwell,  or  more  properly  Brooks,  although  ably  de¬ 
fended,  was  found  guilty  and  sentenced  to  death.  The  most 
strenuous  efforts  were  made  to  secure  a  commutation  of 
his  sentence,  but  without  avail,  and  he  paid,  upon  the  scaffold, 
the  penalty  of  his  awful  crime. 

There  is  a  wide  difference  of  opinion  as  to  whether  he 
deliberately  planned  the  murder;  and  had  he  promptly  sur¬ 
rendered  himself  to  the  police  and  made  to  them  the  statement 
he  gave  upon  the  witness  stand,  he  very  probably  would 
have  escaped  punishment.  His  concealment  of  the  body  and 
appropriation  of  the  money  of  the  murdered  man,  coupled 
with  his  subsequent  flight,  satisfied  the  jury  that  he  was  guilty 
as  charged.  His  case  must  be  classed  with  those  committed 
from  motives  of  cupidity.  He  was  almost  without  money,  and 
his  friend  was  well  supplied.  Following  the  example  set  by 
millions  of  others,  he  basely  murdered  his  companion  and  paid 
for  the  deed  with  his  own  life.  In  this  case  there  was  a  literal 
fulfillment  of  the  scriptural  aphorism:  “The  wages  of  sin  is 
death.  ” 


> 


CHAPTER  X 


EUGENE  ARAM 

Larger  in  territorial  extent  than  any  two  other  counties  of 
England,  Yorkshire  occupies  almost  the  geographical  centre 
of  Great  Britain,  and  lies  nearly  midway  between  London  and 
Edinburgh.  The  northwestern  portion  of  the  county  abounds 
in  caverns,  some  of  them  of  vast  extent,  and  surrounded  with 
most  picturesque  scenery.  One  of  the  smallest  of  all  the 
caverns  of  Yorkshire  has  attracted  greater  attention  than  all 
the  rest,  for  it  was  there  that,  in  1759,  was  discovered  the 
skeleton  of  Daniel  Clarke;  the  first  step  toward  unearthing 
a  murder  mystery  that  for  fourteen  years  had  been  hidden 
under  the  limestone  rocks  of  St.  Robert’s  Cave. 

Of  all  the  remarkable  cases  in  the  criminal  annals  of  En°f- 
land,  that  of  Eugene  Aram  has  attracted  the  widest  interest, 
which  still  continues  with  little  abatement,  notwithstanding 
the  lapse  of  nearly  a  century  and  a  half.  Of  an  unusual 
character,  surrounded  with  romantic  incidents,  long  delayed 
in  its  discovery,  depending  largely  upon  circumstantial  evi¬ 
dence  and  defended  in  a  most  remarkable  and  eloquent 
manner,  the  case  we  are  about  to  narrate  has  proved  an 
attractive  theme  for  the  pen  of  the  poet,  the  dramatist  and 
the  novelist.  Few  who  know  anything  of  the  history  of 
crime,  and  a  less  number  of  those  familiar  with  the  literature 
of  the  world,  are  ignorant  of  this  justly  celebrated  case.  At 
the  same  time  there  are  in  print  to-day  very  few  accurate 
accounts  of  the  life,  crime,  famous  trial  and  tragic  end  of  the 
renowned  scholar  and  schoolmaster.  As  the  author  has  more 
than  once  remarked,  works  of  fiction  contain  much  of  general 
truth,  though  the  separate  details  be  of  imaginative  creation, 
and  may  well  be  used  as  illustrations  of  human  action.  At 

149 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


*5° 

the  same  time,  one  seeking  to  know  the  truth  should  not  go  to 
the  pages  of  an  historical  novel  to  learn  the  facts  of  history. 
Actual  occurrences  are  seldom  entirely  fitted  for  the  uses  of 
the  story-teller,  who  accordingly  exercises  a  large  amount  of 
license  in  twisting  them  to  suit  his  purpose.  Many  good 
people  base  their  biblical  knowledge  upon  Milton’s  “Paradise 
Lost,”  and  have  obtained  their  “historical  facts”  from  the 
pages  of  Dumas,  Muhlbach  and  Scott.  As  to  the  case  under 
discussion,  this  is  peculiarly  true,  Lord  Lytton’s  “Eugene 
Aram”  having  been  generally  accepted  as  a  fair  account, 
colored  with  romance  and  adorned  with  fancy,  but  none  the 
less  essentially  accurate  and  reliable.  This  is  very  far  from 
being  true.  An  admirable  and  praiseworthy  work,  to  be  com¬ 
mended  both  from  a  literary  and  a  moral  standpoint,  it  makes 
something  of  a  martyr  of  Aram,  and  is,  in  many  regards, 
entirely  misleading  and  deceptive. 

Eugene  Aram  was  born  at  Ramsgill,  in  Yorkshire,  in  the 
year  1704.  His  family  was  an  old  one,  and,  in  remote  times, 
had  enjoyed  considerable  distinction.  At  the  time  of  Eugene’s 
birth,  it  had  become  greatly  reduced,  his  father  following  the 
occupation  of  a  gardener.  While  Aram  was  yet  an  infant,  his 
family  removed  to  the  village  of  Shelton  in  the  same  county. 
When  Eugene  was  six  years  old  his  father  purchased  a  small 
cottage  at  Bradgate,  near  Rippon.  Young  Aram  early  mani¬ 
fested  great  intellectual  ability  and  a  decided  thirst  for  knowl¬ 
edge.  While  yet  a  child,  he  attracted  the  attention  of  Sir 
Edward  Blackett,  a  Yorkshire  gentleman  of  letters,  with 
whom  the  elder  Aram  was  employed  as  a  gardener.  This 
kindly  gentleman  employed  him  as  a  personal  attendant, 
and  he  lived  for  some  time  in  an  atmosphere  of  books  and  learn¬ 
ing,  devoting  all  his  leisure  moments  to  study.  He  became 
remarkably  proficient  in  mathematics,  and  at  the  age  of  six¬ 
teen  procured,  through  the  kindly  offices  of  Sir  Edward,  a 
position  as  bookkeeper  with  Mr.  Christopher  Blackett,  a 
brother  of  the  nobleman,  who  was  engaged  in  business  in 
London.  This  position  soon  grew  distasteful  to  the  young 
student,  who  had  become  weary  of  mathematics,  and  longed 
to  perfect  himself  in  the  classical  languages  and  literature. 


EUGENE  ARAM 


151 

He  fretted  under  the  restraint,  but  was  speedily  released. 
Being  attacked  with  smallpox,  he  left  London  and  returned  to 
his  father’s  house.  Here,  thanks  to  the  liberality  and  self- 
denial  of  his  worthy  father,  he  was  able  to  pursue  a  more 
systematic  course  of  study  than  ever  before,  and  soon  gained 
considerable  reputation  as  a  rising  scholar.  After  having 
served  in  various  literary  capacities  in  different  parts  of  Eng¬ 
land,  he  was  invited  to  the  house  of  Mr.  William  Norton,  of 
Knaresborough,  in  Yorkshire.  Mr.  Norton  was  himself 
devoted  to  study,  and,  being  a  man  of  wealth,  gave  the  young 
man  employment  well  suited  to  his  literary  tastes,  and  an 
opportunity  to  pursue  his  linguistic  and  other  studies. 

About  this  time  Eugene  Aram  contracted  a  marriage,  of 
which  little  is  now  known,  but  which  does  not  appear  to  have 
been  a  very  happy  one.  Not  only  did  he  afterwards  desert 
his  wife,  but  his  untimely  end  was  directly  traceable  to  declara¬ 
tions,  or  more  properly  insinuations,  of  hers. 

While  in  Knaresborough,  Aram  formed  the  acquaintance 
of  two  men,  each  destined  to  have  a  remarkable  effect  upon  his 
subsequent  life.  One  of  these  men  was  Richard  Houseman, 
a  dissolute  and  dishonest  man,  who  lived  principally  by  ply¬ 
ing  a  trade  that  has  not  yet  become  obsolete,  i.  e.,  using  his 
wits.  He  was  a  man  of  rather  a  low  order,  of  little  intellec¬ 
tuality  and  less  education ;  one  of  the  last  in  whose  societ)^  a 
man  of  Aram’s  temperament,  erudition  and  aspirations, 
would  seem  likely  to  find  anything  of  pleasure  or  profit.  At 
this  time,  however,  our  student  seems  to  have  begun  to  fret 
under  the  limitations  placed  upon  him  by  the  small  means  he 
had  at  command.  Intellectual  advancement  and  elevation, 
however  desirable  and  praiseworthy,  are  none  the  less  to  be 
condemned  when  they  excite  feelings  of  cupidity  and  lead  to 
dishonorable  and  criminal  acts. 

The  other  acquaintance  of  Aram  was  a  shoemaker  of 
Knaresborough,  named  Daniel  Clarke.  This  man  had  recently 
married,  and  had  given  out  that  he  expected  to  soon  receive 
quite  a  fortune  from  wealthy  relatives  of  his  wife.  In  common 
with  all  the  people  of  the  town,  Aram  and  Houseman  heard 
this  story,  and  made  it  the  frequent  subject  of  conversation. 


XS  2 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


Interviewing  Clarke  upon  the  subject,  they  learned  that  the 
story  was  true,  but  that  the  shoemaker  was  in  a  good  deal  of 
doubt  as  to  whether  the  expected  present  would  be  forthcom¬ 
ing.  Whereupon  they  suggested  to  him  that  if  it  failed  it 
would  be  because  he  was  poor,  as  the  rich  relatives  of  his 
wife  would  hardly  give  him  any  considerable  sum  of  money  so 
long  as  he  appeared  to  be  in  indigent  circumstances,  since 
they  would  fear  that  he  might  squander  it,  as  he  had  his  own 
property.  They  suggested  that  he  go  to  London,  where  he 
had  acquaintances,  and  some  credit  with  merchants,  and  pur¬ 
chase,  on  time,  a  large  amount  of  silverware,  jewelry,  watches, 
etc.  Whether  in  giving  this  advice  Aram  had  any  ulterior 
object  in  view  has  been  doubted,  and  the  truth  cannot  now  be 
established.  In  any  event,  it  was  not  long  before  Houseman 
and  himself  concocted  a  scheme  to  profit  by  the  dishonesty  of 
Clarke,  who  appears  to  have  been  a  thorough  rascal  himself. 

Clarke  was  overjoyed  at  the  prospect  of  wealth  that  the 
suggestion  afforded,  and  lost  no  time  in  carrying  it  into  execu¬ 
tion.  He  told  the  merchants  in  London  that  he  wished  to 
purchase  the  articles  for  export,  and  would  pay  for  them  as 
soon  as  he  received  a  remittance.  He  thus  secured  possession 
of  goods  of  great  value,  borrowed  some  articles  from  acquaint¬ 
ances,  on  some  pretext  or  other,  and  returned  with  his  booty 
to  Knaresborough.  His  plan  doubtless  was  to  decamp  with 
the  plunder,  if  the  promised  fortune  was  not  forthcoming  in 
time  to  enable  him  to  satisfy  his  creditors. 

Shortly  after  his  return  home,  the  shoemaker  and  his  newly 
acquired  wealth  suddenly  disappeared.  The  facts  as  to  his 
buying  and  borrowing  the  valuables  speedily  became  public, 
and  he  was  set  down  as  a  common  swindler.  In  the  mean¬ 
time,  Aram  fell  under  suspicion.  He  had  been  quite  intimate 
with  Clarke  for  some  months,  and  the  seeming  friendship  of 
two  men  so  entirely  dissimilar  in  their  habits  of  life  and 
modes  of  thought  had  not  failed  to  attract  the  attention  of  the 
gossips  of  the  town.  Houseman  was  also  suspected,  but  he 
had  left  the  country.  A  search  of  Aram’s  premises  was 
ordered,  and,  buried  in  his  garden,  a  considerable  portion  of 
the  goods  secured  in  London  were  found.  The  scholar  was 


EUGENE  ARAM 


i53 


brought  to  trial  on  the  charge  of  having  been  a  confederate  of 
Clarke’s  in  the  swindling  operation,  and  sharing  in  the  pro¬ 
ceeds.  He  was  acquitted  through  lack  of  evidence,  but  his 
good  name  in  Knaresborough  was  blasted. 

Shortly  after  this,  Aram  disappeared,  and  nothing  was 
heard  of  him,  not  even  by  his  wife,  for  a  period  of  fourteen 
years.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  at  once  repaired  to  London, 
where  he  sold  to  a  Jew  as  much  of  the  plunder  as  he  had 
managed  to  retain.  This  accomplished,  he  became  an  usher 
in  Latin  in  the  private  school  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Plainblanc,  in 
Picadilly,  London.  He  remained  some  time  in  this  place,  but 
finally  adopted  a  nomadic  mode  of  life  and  pursued  his  voca¬ 
tion  of  teacher  in  different  parts  of  England.  All  this  time  he 
seems  to  have  pursued  a  regular  course  of  study  and  had  risen 
to  considerable  local  distinction  as  a  scholar.  He  had  acquired 
quite  a  complete  knowledge  of  botany,  heraldry,  Chaldean, 
Arabic,  Welsh  and  Irish,  and  gathered  much  material  for  a 
proposed  etymological  word,  to  be  entitled  “A  Comparative 
Lexicon  of  the  English,  Latin,  Greek,  Hebrew  and  Celtic 
Languages.  ” 

Aram  and  Houseman  had  brutally  murdered  Daniel  Clarke 
that  they  might  possess  themselves  of  the  property  they  had 
themselves  persuaded  him  to  fraudulently  secure.  Fourteen 
years  had  elapsed,  and  the  matter  was  almost  forgotten  in 
Knaresborough,  for  no  one  had  even  suggested  that  the  shoe¬ 
maker  had  met  with  foul  play,  and  an  ordinary  swindle  takes 
no  deep  hold  upon  the  memory  of  a  community.  If  the 
perpetrator  of  a  crime  was  ever  justified  in  believing  that  all 
traces  of  his  wrong-doing  had  disappeared,  and  that  he  was 
absolutely  insured  against  its  consequences,  Eugene  Aram 
surely  was.  But  the  ways  of  Providence  are  inscrutable,  and 
sin  finds  out  those  who  least  expect  or  fear  it.  The  weak 
things  of  this  world  oftentimes  confound  the  wise. 

In  1759,  a  laborer  digging  in  a  field  near  Knaresborough, 
unearthed  the  skeleton  of  a  human  being.  Even  in  a  city, 
such  an  occurrence  excites  curiosity  and  awe,  but  in  a  rural 
district  it  throws  the  people  into  something  like  a  panic.  The 
population  went  fairly  wild  over  the  gruesome  discovery.  All 


« 


V 


i54  MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 

sorts  of  theories  were  advanced  by  the  knowing  ones,  but  the 
opinion  that  the  bones  were  those  of  Daniel  Clarke  gained  the 
widest  credence.  Exactly  why  this  should  have  been  so  is 
not  apparent.  It  was  universally  believed  that  he  had  fled  the 
country  to  avoid  arrest,  the  punishment  for  swindling  being, 
at  that  time,  most  severe.  Aram’s  wife,  who  still  resided  at 
Knaresborough,  threw  out  certain  hints  that  decided  the 
authorities  to  apprehend  Houseman  and  the  school-teacher. 
There  was  no  clue  to  the  whereabouts  of  the  latter,  but  the  for¬ 
mer,  after  some  considerable  delay,  was  located  in  Scotland,  and 
brought  back  to  Knaresborough  to  be  present  at  the  inquest. 
Confronted  with  the  bones,  he  became  greatly  perturbed,  and 
upon  being  handed  one  of  them  by  the  coroner,  he  exclaimed, 
“This  is  no  more  one  of  Daniel  Clarke’s  bones  than  it  is  one  of 
mine.”  These  words,  coupled  with  the  intensely  earnest 
manner  in  which  they  were  uttered,  made  a  decided  impres¬ 
sion  on  all  present.  Why  should  Houseman  so  vehemently 
protest  that  the  bones  were  not  those  of  Clarke  unless  he 
knew  that  the  body  of  the  shoemaker  had  been  deposited 
elsewhere?  This  question  at  once  presented  itself  to  the  mind 
of  the  coroner,  and  he  pressed  it  upon  Houseman,  who,  realiz¬ 
ing  that  he  had  made  a  mistake,  became  greatly  confused, 
and  finally  broke  down  and  confessed  that  he  had  seen  Clarke 
murdered.  He  did  not  at  first  admit  that  he  had  been  con¬ 
nected  with  the  crime,  but  charged  it  upon  Aram  and  a  man 
named  Terry.  As  to  the  body,  he  said  that  it  had  been  buried 
in  St.  Robert’s  Cave.  An  excited  crowd  of  people  ran 
immediately  to  the  romantic  spot,  and  after  searching  for  some 
time  in  the  fragments  of  limestone  that  covered  the  floor  of 
the  cavern,  came  upon  a  human  skeleton,  minus  the  head.  It 
was  doubled  up,  and  had  obviously  been  buried  in  that  posi¬ 
tion.  Houseman  now  abandoned  much  of  his  first  story,  and 
admitted  that  he  had  been  Aram’s  confederate.  He  denied 
that  he  had  ever  seen  the  body  of  Clarke  after  he  was  mur¬ 
dered,  but  stated  that  Aram  had  told  him  that  the  head  was 
buried  separately,  and  at  some  distance  to  the  right  of  the 
body.  Following  this  clue,  a  second  search  was  made,  which 
resulted  in  the  discovery  of  a  human  skull. 


EUGENE  ARAM 


i55 


A  systematic  search  was  immediately  made  for  Aram,  but 
it  was  some  time  before  any  trace  of  him  was  found.  At  last 
he  was  discovered  at  Lynn,  in  Norfolk,  where  he  was  an  usher 
in  a  school.  He  was  at  once  arrested,  and  conveyed  to  York 
Castle.  On  August  13,  1759,  he  was  arraigned  for  trial  before 
Mr.  Justice  Noel,  under  an  indictment  charging  him  with  the 
murder  of  Daniel  Clarke.  The  evidence  was  almost  entirely 
of  a  circumstantial  character,  the  only  direct  incriminating 
testimony  being  given  by  Richard  Houseman,  who  had  been 
allowed  to  turn  king’s  evidence.  He  deposed  that  Aram  and 
himself  had  formed  a  plot  to  rob  Clarke,  and  that  his  accom¬ 
plice  had  killed  him.  The  three  men  were  taking  a  walk 
together  in  the  fields.  It  was  bright  moonlight,  and  House¬ 
man,  who  was  some  distance  behind  the  others,  saw  Aram 
strike  down  his  companion.  He  averred  that  Aram  concealed 
the  body  in  St.  Robert’s  Cave,  and  that  they  then  proceeded 
to  divide  the  property.  He  had  carried  his  portion  to  Scot¬ 
land,  where  he  had  disposed  of  it. 

While  the  story  of  Houseman  undoubtedly  contained  much 
of  truth,  he  naturally  did  all  that  was  in  his  power  to  shield  . 
himself  at  the  sacrifice  of  his  accomplice.  That  Aram  was 
guilty  is  established  by  his  own  confession,  written  the  night 
preceding  his  execution,  but  without  this,  the  fact  might  well 
be  doubted.  The  testimony  of  a  self-confessed  murderer 
ought  to  be  taken  with  a  great  deal  of  allowance,  and  circum¬ 
stantial  evidence  should  be  thoroughly  sifted  and  diligently 
compared  before  it  is  permitted  to  secure  a  sentence  of  death. 
One  peculiarity  of  the  Aram  case  and  that  which,  more  than 
anything  else,  has  caused  it  to  take  a  prominent  place  among 
the  remarkable  criminal  cases  of  England,  and  the  world,  is 
the  circumstance  that  he  conducted  his  own  defense,  and  did 
it  in  such  a  masterly  way  as  to  well-nigh  secure  his  acquittal, 
and  give  to  his  personality  a  lasting  earthly  prominence.  His 
address  to  the  court  and  jury  is  a  masterpiece  in  its  way,  and 
strongly  shows  the  inherent  weaknesses  and  the  dangers 
attending  upon  the  introduction  of  circumstantial  evidence. 
Besides,  it  conveys  a  good  idea  of  the  case,  as  proven  in  court. 
It  is  presented  here,  almost  entire. 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


*5* 

“My  lord,”  began  Aram,  “I  know  not  whether  it  is  of 
right,  or  through  some  indulgence  of  your  lordship,  that  I  am 
allowed  the  liberty  at  this  bar,  and  at  this  time,  to  attempt  a 
defense ;  incapable  and  uninstructed  as  I  am  to  speak.  Since, 
while  I  see  so  many  eyes  upon  me,  so  numerous  and  awful  a 
concourse,  fixed  with  attention,  and  filled  with  I  know  not 
what  expectancy,  I  labor,  not  with  guilt,  my  lord,  but  with 
perplexity.  For,  having  never  seen  a  court  but  this,  being 
wholly  unacquainted  with  law,  the  customs  of  the  bar,  and  all 
judiciary  proceedings,  I  fear  I  shall  be  so  little  capable  of 
speaking  with  propriety,  that  it  might  reasonably  be  expected 
to  exceed  my  hope,  should  I  be  able  to  speak  at  all. 

“I  have  heard,  my  lord,  the  indictment  read,  wherein  I  find 
myself  charged  with  the  highest  of  human  crimes.  You  will 
grant  me,  then,  )^our  patience,  if  I,  single  and  unskilful,  desti¬ 
tute  of  friends,  and  unassisted  by  counsel,  attempt  something, 
perhaps,  like  argument  in  my  defense.  What  I  have  to  say 
will  be  but  short,  and  that  brevity  may  be  the  best  part  of  it. 

“My  lord,  the  tenor  of  my  life  contradicts  this  indictment. 
Who  can  look  back  over  what  is  known  of  my  former  years, 
and  charge  me  with  one  vice — one  offense?  No!  I  concerted 
not  schemes  of  fraud — projected  no  violence — injured  no  man’s 
property  or  person.  My  days  were  honestly  laborious — my 
'  nights  intensely  studious.  This  egotism  is  not  presumptuous 
— it  is  not  unreasonable.  What  man,  after  a  temperate  use  of 
life,  a  series  of  thinking  and  acting  regularly,  without  one 
single  deviation  from  a  sober  and  even  tenor  of  conduct,  ever 
plunged  into  the  depths  of  crime  precipitately,  and  at  once? 
Mankind  are  not  instantaneously  corrupted.  Villainy  is 
always  progressive.  We  decline  from  the  right — not  sud¬ 
denly,  but  step  after  step. 

“If  my  life  in  general  contradicts  the  indictment,  my  health 
at  that  time,  in  particular,  contradicts  it  yet  more.  A  little 
time  before,  I  had  been  confined  to  my  bed — I  had  suffered  a 
long  and  severe  disorder.  The  distemper  left  me  but  slowly, 
and  in  part.  So  far  from  being  well  at  the  time  I  am  charged 
with  this  fact,  I  never,  to  this  day,  perfectly  recovered. 
Gould  a  person  in  this  condition  execute  violence  against 


EUGENE  ARAM 


157 


another?  I,  feeble  and  valetudinary,  with  no  inducement  to 
engage — no  ability  to  accomplish — no  weapon  wherewith  to 
perpetrate  such  a  fact; — without  interest,  without  power, 
without  motives,  without  means! 

“My  lord,  Clarke  disappeared;  true;  but  is  that  a  proof  of 
his  death?  The  fallibility  of  all  conclusions  of  such  a  sort, 
from  such  a  circumstance,  is  too  obvious  to  require  instances. 
One  instance  is  before  you ;  this  very  castle  affords  it. 

“In  June,  1757,  William  Thompson,  amidst  all  the  vigi¬ 
lance  of  this  place,  in  open  daylight,  and  double-ironed,  made 
his  escape;  notwithstanding  all  advertisements,  all  search,  he 
was  never  seen  or  heard  of  since.  If  this  man  escaped 
unseen,  through  all  these  difficulties,  how  easy  for  Clarke, 
whom  no  difficulties  opposed!  Yet  what  would  be  thought  of 
a  prosecution  commenced  against  any  one  seen  last  with 
Thompson? 

“These  bones  are  discovered;  where?  Of  all  places  in  the 
world,  can  we  think  of  any  one,  except  the  churchyard,  where 
there  is  so  great  a  certainty  of  finding  human  bones,  as  a 
hermitage?  In  times  past,  the  hermitage  was  a  place,  not 
onty  of  religious  retirement,  but  of  burial.  And  it  has  scarce, 
or  never,  been  heard  of,  but  that  every  cell  now  known, 
contains  or  contained  these  relics  of  humanity;  some  mutilated 
— some  entire !  Give  me  leave  to  remind  your  lordship,  that 
here  sat  Solitary  Sanctity ,  and  here  the  hermit  and  the 
anchorite  hoped  that  repose  for  their  bones  when  dead  they 
here  enjoyed  when  living.  I  glance  over  a  few  of  the  many 
evidences,  that  these  cells  were  used  as  repositories  of  the 
dead,  and  enumerate  a  few  of  the  many  caves  similar  in  origin 
to  St.  Robert’s,  in  which  human  bones  have  been  found.” 

At  this  point  the  accused  mentioned  several  places  where 
bones  have  been  found  surrounded  by  circumstances  not 
unlike  those  in  the  case  before  the  jury.  He  concluded  this 
portion  of  his  address  by  mentioning  two  well-known  facts, 
where  skeletons  had  been  found  in  that  portion  of  Yorkshire. 
He  then  proceeded  vehemently: 

“Is,  then,  the  invention  of  those  bones  forgotten  or  indus¬ 
triously  concealed,  that  the  discovery  of  these  in  question  may 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


appear  the  more  extraordinary?  Extraordinary — yet  how 

common  an  event !  Every  place  conceals  such  remains.  In 
fields — in  hills — in  highway  sides — on  wastes — on  commons, 
lie  frequent  and  unsuspected  bones.  And  mark — no  example, 
perhaps,  occurs  of  more  than  one  skeleton  being  found  in  one 
cell.  Here  you  find  but  one,  agreeable  to  the  peculiarity  of 
every  known  cell  in  Britain.  Had  two  skeletons  been  dis¬ 
covered,  then  alone  might  the  fact  have  seemed  suspicious 
and  uncommon.  What!  Have  we  forgotten  how  difficult,  as 
in  the  case  of  Perkin  Warbeck,  and  Lambert  Symnel,  it  has 
been  sometimes  to  identify  the  living;  and  shall  we  now  assign 
.  personality  to  bones — bones  which  may  belong  to  either  sex? 
How  know  you  that  this  is  even  the  skeleton  of  a  man?  But 
another  skeleton  was  discovered  by  some  laborer?  Was  not 
that  skeleton  averred  to  be  Clarke’s,  full  as  confidently  as  this? 

“My  lord,  my  lord, — must  some  of  the  living  be  made 
answerable  for  all  the  bones  that  earth  has  concealed,  and 
chance  exposed?  The  skull  that  has  been  produced  has  been 
declared  fractured.  But  who  can  surely  tell  whether  it  was 
the  cause  or  the  consequence  of  death?  In  May,  1732,  the 
ramains  of  William,  Lord  Archbishop  of  this  province,  were 
taken  up  by  permission,  in  their  cathedral;  the  bones  of  the 
skull  were  found  broken,  as  these  are;  yet  he  died  by  no 
violence — by  no  blow  that  could  have  caused  that  fracture. 
Let  it  be  considered  how  easy  the  fracture  on  the  skull  is 
accounted  for.  At  the  dissolution  of  religious  houses,  the 
ravages  of  the  times  affected  both  the  living  and  the  dead.  In 
search  after  imaginary  treasures,  coffins  were  broken,  graves 
and  vaults  dug  open,  monuments  ransacked,  shrines  demol¬ 
ished;  Parliament  itself  was  called  in  to  restrain  these  viola¬ 
tions.  And  now  are  the  depredations,  the  iniquities  of  those 
times  to  be  visited  on  this?  But  here,  above  all,  was  a  castle 
vigorously  besieged ;  every  spot  around  was  the  scene  of  a 
sally,  a  conflict,  a  flight,  a  pursuit.  When  the  slaughtered 
fell,  there  were  they  buried.  What  place  is  not  burial  earth 
in  war?  How  many  bones  must  still  remain  in  the  vicinity  of 
that  siege,  for  futurity  to  discover?  Can  you,  then,  with  so 
many  probable  circumstances,  choose  the  one  least  probable? 


EUGENE  ARAM 


159 


Can  you  impute  to  the  living  what  zeal  in  its  fury  may  have 
done ;  what  nature  may  have  taken  off  and  piety  interred ;  or 
what  war  alone  may  have  destroyed,  alone  deposited? 

“And  now,  glance  over  the  circumstantial  evidence — how 
weak,  how  frail!  I  almost  scorn  to  allude  to  it;  I  will  not 
condescend  to  dwell  upon  it.  The  witness  of  one  man, 
arraigned  himself!  Is  there  no  chance,  that,  to  save  his  own 
life,  he  might  conspire  against  mine? — no  chance,  that  he 
might  have  committed  this  murder,  if  murder  hath  indeed 
been  done?  that  conscience  betrayed  him  in  his  first  exclama¬ 
tion?  that  craft  suggested  his  throwing  that  guilt  upon  me,  to 
the  knowledge  of  which  he  had  unwittingly  confessed?  He 
declares  that  he  saw  me  strike  Clarke — that  he  saw  him  fall ; 
yet  he  utters  no  cry — no  reproof.  He  calls  for  no  aid;  he 
returns  quietly  home;  he  declares  that  he  knows  not  what 
became  of  the  body,  yet  he  tells  where  the  body  is  laid.  He 
declares  that  he  went  straight  home,  and  alone;  yet  the 
woman  with  whom  I  lodged  declares  that  Houseman  and  I 
returned  to  my  house  in  company  together ; — what  evidence  is 
this?  And  from  whom  does  it  come? — ask  yourselves.  As  for 
the  rest  of  the  evidence,  what  does  it  amount  to?  The  watch¬ 
man  saw  Houseman  leave  my  house  at  night.  What  more 
probable — but  what  less  connected  with  the  murder — real  or 
supposed — of  Clarke?  Some  pieces  of  clothing  are  found 
buried  in  my  garden ;  but  how  can  it  be  shown  that  they 
belonged  to  Clarke?  Who  can  swear  to — who  can  prove — 
anything  so  vague?  And  if  found  there,  even  if  belonging  to 
Clarke,  what  proof  that  they  were  there  deposited  by  me? 
How  likely  that  the  real  criminal  may,  in  the  dead  of  night, 
have  preferred  any  spot  rather  than  round  his  own  home,  to 
conceal  the  evidence  of  his  crime? 

“How  impotent  such  evidence  as  this!  and  how  poor,  how 
precarious,  even  the  strongest  of  mere  circumstantial  evidence 
invariably  is!  Let  it  rise  to  probability,  to  the  strongest 
degree  of  probability;  it  is  probability  still.  Recollect  the 
case  of  the  two  Harrisons,  recorded  by  Doctor  Howell;  both 
suffered  on  circumstantial  evidence  on  the  account  of  the  dis¬ 
appearance  of  a  man,  who,  like  Clarke,  contracted  debts, 


i6o 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


borrowed  money,  and  went  off  unseen.  And  this  man 
returned  several  years  after  their  execution.  Why  remind 
you  of  Jacques  du  Moulin,  in  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second? 
Why  of  the  unhappy  Coleman,  convicted  though  afterwards 
found  innocent,  and  whose  children  perished  of  want,  because 
the  world  believed  their  father  guilty?  Why  should  I  mention 
the  perjury  of  Smith,  who,  admitted  king’s  evidence,  screened 
himself  by  accusing  Painloth  and  Loveday  of  the  murder  of 
Dunn?  The  first  was  executed,  the  second  was  about  to  share 
the  same  fate,  when  the  perjury  of  Smith  was  incontrovertibly 
proved. 

“And  now,  my  lord,  having  endeavored  to  show  that  the 
whole  of  this  charge  is  altogether  repugnant  to  every  part  of 
my  life;  that  it  is  inconsistent  with  my  condition  of  health 
about  that  time ;  that  no  rational  inference  of  the  death  of  a 
person  can  be  drawn  from  his  disappearance ;  that  hermitages 
were  the  constant  repositories  of  the  bones  of  the  recluse; 
that  the  proofs  of  these  are  well  authenticated ;  that  the  revo¬ 
lution  in  religion,  or  the  fortunes  of  war,  have  mangled  or 
buried  the  dead;  that  the  strongest  circumstantial  evidence  is 
often  lamentably  fallacious;  that  in  my  case  that  evidence,  so 
far  from  being  strong,  is  weak,  disconnected,  contradictory; 
what  remains?  A  conclusion,  perhaps,  no  less  reasonably 
than  impatiently  wished  for.  I,  at  last,  after  nearly  a  year’s 
confinement,  equal  to  either  fortune,  entrust  m3rself  to  the 
candor,  the  justice,  the  humanity  of  your  lordship,  and  to 
yours,  my  countrymen,  gentlemen  of  the  jury.” 

This  speech,  delivered  with  fine  elocutionary  effects,  in  an 
earnest,  and  at  times  exceedingly  dramatic  manner,  produced 
a  decided  effect  upon  both  jury  and  audience;  many  of  the 
latter  being  moved  to  tears.  Had  the  case  been  submitted  to 
the  jury  at  this  point,  almost  beyond  question,  the  accused 
would  have  left  the  crowded  courtroom  a  free  man.  Among 
all  who  listened  to  the  impassioned  address  of  the  prisoner  at 
the  bar,  one  man  sat  entirely  unmoved;  this  man  was  the 
judge,  Mr.  Justice  Noel.  Those  unaccustomed  to  the  proceed¬ 
ings  in  courts  of  law  can  have  little  idea  of  the  effect  sometimes 
produced  upon  a  jury  by  the  charge  of  the  trial  judge.  He 


DISCOVERY  OF  DANIEL  CLARKES  RONES  IN  ST.  ROBERTS  CAVE.  —  TAGE  I54 


1 


EUGENE  ARAM 


161 


stands  as  the  personification  of  the  law,  and,  whether  wear¬ 
ing  a  black  official  robe,  or  dressed  in  the  garb  of  an  ordinary 
citizen,  excites  in  men  little  accustomed  to  such  scenes,  as 
jurymen  usually  are,  mingled  feelings  of  respect  and  awe — 
respect  for  the  exalted  position  he  occupies,  and  awe  at  the 
fearful  power  entrusted  to  his  hands.  Where  a  judge  has  so 
conducted  himself  upon  a  trial  as  to  command  the  entire 
respect  of  the  jury,  he  can  usually,  by  his  rulings  and  charge, 
so  impress  and  so  influence  them  as  to  secure  a  verdict  to  his 
own  liking.  If  this  is  true  to-day,  it  was  doubly  so  a  century 
and  a  half  ago;  now,  in  many  States  of  this  Union,  Illinois, 
for  instance,  the  jury  are  the  sole  judges  of  both  the  law  and 
the  evidence.  In  England,  the  jury  are  judges  of  the  evi¬ 
dence  alone,  the  instructions  of  the  judge  on  points  of  law 
being  final,  and  leaving  them  no  discretion  in  the  matter. 
The  tremendous  influence  that  a  judge  can  exercise  in  sway¬ 
ing  juries  to  secure  convictions,  is  amply  shown  in  the  success, 
in  that  direction,  of  the  infamous  Jeffreys,  an  account  of 
whose  judicial  murders  will  be  found  elsewhere  in  this  volume. 

At  the  time  when  this  famous  trial  occurred,  the  full  and 
complete  court  reports  of  the  present  day  were  unknown.  Of 
the  trial  of  Aram,  the  prisoner’s  address  is  the  only  portion 
that  has  come  down  to  us  entire.  This  is  to  be  regretted,  for 
the  charge  of  Justice  Noel  was  considered  at  the  time  of  its 
delivery  as  scarcely  less  eloquent  and  forcible  than  the  defense 
of  the  prisoner.  The  points  that  he  made  are,  however,  well 
understood.  He  reviewed  the  evidence  at  great  length, 
dwelling  with  care  upon  the  most  minute  details.  Houseman, 
the  only  direct  witness  to  the  tragedy,  had  contradicted  him¬ 
self  in  several  particulars,  and  the  judge  instructed  the  jury 
that  his  position  was  to  be  taken  into  account.  He  had  turned 
king’s  evidence,  but  naturally  wished  to  avoid  incriminating 
himself,  any  further  than  might  be  absolutely  necessary.  The 
weakness  of  this  reasoning  is  apparent,  yet  it  undoubtedly  had 
great  weight  with  the  jury.  Commenting  upon  the  eloquent 
and  logical  defense  of  the  accused,  he  used  consummate  skill 
and  tact  in  robbing  it  of  the  force  with  which  it  had  struck  the 
twelve  men  in  the  jury  box.  He  highly  eulogized  the  elo- 


162 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


quence  of  the  prisoner,  who,  relying  solely  upon  his  own 
genius  to  impress  the  jury,  had  neither  employed  counsel  nor 
called  witnesses.  His  praise  of  Aram’s  effort  from  the  artistic 
standpoint,  and  the  warnings  that  he  skilfully  introduced, 
brought  the  jury  down  from  the  clouds  to  which  the  eloquence 
of  the  scholar  had  raised  them,  and,  at  one  blow,  destroyed  its 
effect.  This  accomplished,  he  proceeded  to  solemnly  declare 
that  nothing  in  the  elaborate  argument  of  the  prisoner  at  all 
answered  or  invalidated  the  positive  evidence  that  had  been 
produced  against  him. 

The  jury  retired,  and,  after  a  short  conference,  returned 
with  a  verdict  of  guilty.  The  judge  placed  the  black  cap 
upon  his  head,  and  solemnly  proceeded  to  sentence  Eugene 
Aram  to  be  executed  three  days  later,  August  16,  1759;  his 
body  to  be  hung  in  chains  in  Knaresborough  forest.  Aram 
received  his  sentence,  which  he  knew  to  be  absolutely  final 
and  irrevocable,  with  becoming  dignity  and  composure. 

The  night  before  his  execution  he  made  a  determined  effort 
to  terminate  his  own  life.  With  a  razor  that  he  had  somehow 
managed  to  secure,  he  cut  his  arm  in  two  places.  He  made 
this  attempt  in  the  latter  part  of  the  night,  and  the  fact  was 
discovered  early  in  the  morning,  in  time  to  prevent  his  bleed- 
*  ing  to  death.  Weak  as  he  was,  he  maintained  a  serene 
composure  to  the  last,  and  died  as  stoically  as  he  had  lived. 

During  the  night  preceding  his  execution,  and  just  before 
he  made  the  attempt  to  take  his  own  life,  Aram  wrote  two 
statements  which  will  prove  at  once  entertaining  and  instruct¬ 
ive,  as  showing  something  of  the  real  character  of  this 
remarkable  man.  One  of  them  is  something  of  a  personal 
defense  and  justification  of  the  suicide  he  was  about  to 
attempt.  It  is  as  follows: 

“What  am  I  better  than  my  fathers?  To  die  is  natural  and 
necessary.  Perfectly  sensible  of  this,  I  fear  no  more  to  die 
than  I  did  to  be  born.  But  the  manner  of  it  is  something 
which  should,  in  my  opinion,  be  decent  and  manly.  I  think  I 
have  regarded  both  these  points.  Certainly  no  man  has  a 
better  right  to  dispose  of  a  man’s  life  than  himself;  and  he, 
not  others,  should  determine  how.  As  for  many  indignities 


♦ 


EUGENE  ARAM  163 

offered  my  body,  or  silly  reflections  on  my  faith  and  morals, 
they  are,  as  they  always  were,  things  indifferent  to  me.  I 
think,  though  contrary  to  the  common  way  of  thinking,  I 
wrong  no  man  by  this,  and  hope  it  is  not  offensive  to  that 
Eternal  Being  that  formed  me  and  the  world ;  and  as  by  this  I 
injure  no  man,  no  man  can  reasonably  be  offended.  I  solicit¬ 
ously  recommend  myself  to  the  Eternal  and  Almighty  Being, 
the  God  of  Nature,  if  I  have  done  amiss.  But  perhaps  I  have 
not;  and  I  hope  this  thing  will  never  be  imputed  to  me. 
Though  I  am  now  stained  by  malevolence  and  suffer  by  preju¬ 
dice,  I  hope  to  rise  fair  and  unblemished.  My  life  was  not 
polluted,  my  morals  irreproachable,  and  my  opinions  orthodox. 
I  slept  sound  till  three  o’clock,  awakened,  and  then  writ  these 
lines: 

“  Come  pleasing  rest!  eternal  slumbers,  fall! 

Seal  mine,  that  once  must  seal  the  eyes  of  all. 

Calm  and  composed  my  soul  her  journey  takes ; 

No  guilt  that  troubles  and  no  heart  that  aches. 

Adieu  thou  sun !  all  bright,  like  her  arise ! 

Adieu  fair  friends,  and  all  that’s  good  and  wise.” 

The  other  paper  is  in  the  form  of  a  letter  addressed  to  a 
personal  friend.  It  runs  as  follows : 

“My  Dear  Friend: — Before  this  reaches  you  I  shall  be  no 
more  a  man  living  in  this  world,  though  at  present  in  bodily 
health;  but  who  can  describe  the  horrors  of  mind  which  I 
suffer  at  this  instant?  Guilt — the  guilt  of  blood  shed  without 
any  provocation,  without  any  cause  but  that  of  filthy  lucre — 
pierces  my  conscience  with  wounds  that  give  most  poignant 
pains!  ’Tis  true,  the  consciousness  of  my  horrid  guilt  has 
given  me  frequent  interruptions  in  the  midst  of  my  business  or 
pleasure ;  but  yet  I  have  found  means  to  stifle  its  clamors,  and 
contrived  a  momentary  remedy  for  the  disturbance  it  gave  me 
by  applying  to  the  bottle  or  the  bowl,  or  diversions,  or  com¬ 
pany,  or  business ;  but  now  all  these,  and  all  other  amusements 
are  at  an  end,  and  I  am  left  forlorn,  helpless  and  destitute  of 
every  comfort ;  for  I  have  nothing  now  in  view  but  the  certain 
destruction  both  of  my  soul  and  body.  My  conscience  will 
now  no  longer  suffer  itself  to  be  hoodwinked  or  browbeat ;  it 
has  now  got  the  mastery ;  it  is  my  accuser,  judge  and  execu¬ 
tioner;  and  the  sentence  it  pronounceth  against  me  is  more 
dreadful  than  that  I  heard  from  the  bench,  which  only  con- 


164 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


demned  my  body  to  the  pains  of  death,  which  are  soon  over ; 
but  conscience  tells  me  plainly  that  she  will  summon  me 
before  another  tribunal,  where  I  shall  have  neither  power  nor 
means  to  stifle  the  evidence  she  will  there  bring  against  me ; 
and  that  the  sentence  which  will  then  be  pronounced  will  not 
only  be  irreversible,  but  it  will  condemn  my  soul  to  torments 
that  will  have  no  end. 

“Oh!  had  I  but  hearkened  to  the  advice  which  dear-bought 
experience  has  enabled  me  to  give  I  should  not  now  have  been 
plunged  into  that  dreadful  gulf  of  despair  which  I  shall  find  it 
impossible  to  extricate  myself  from ;  and  therefore  my  soul  is 
filled  with  horror  inconceivable.  I  see  both  God  and  man  my 
enemies,  and  in  a  few  hours  shall  be  exposed  a  public  spec¬ 
tacle  for  the  world  to  gaze  at.  Can  you  conceive  any  condition 
anymore  horrible  than  mine?  Oh,  no!  it  cannot  be.  I  am 
determined,  therefore,  to  put  a  short  end  to  trouble  I  am  no 
longer  able  to  bear,  and  prevent  the  executioner  by  doing  his 
business  with  my  own  hand,  and  shall  by  this  means  at  least 
prevent  the  shame  and  disgrace  of  a  public  exposure,  and 
leave  the  care  of  my  soul  into  the  hands  of  eternal  mercy. 
Wishing  you  all  health,  happiness  and  prosperity,  I  am,  to  the 
last  moment  of  my  life,  Yours  with  sincere  regard, 

“Eugene  Aram.” 

These  two  papers  of  Eugene  Aram  are  well  worth  the 
reader’s  critical  examination.  They  show  a  composure  and 
concentration  of  mind  which  is  remarkable  in  one  upon  the 
threshold  of  eternity.  More  than  that,  they  give  an  admirable 
demonstration  of  the  man’s  true  character.  In  the  one  first 
quoted,  which,  though  unaddressed,  was  evidently  designed 
for  the  public,  as  some  sort  of  vindication  of  his  memory,  he 
represents  himself  as  having  lived  a  moral  and  religious  life. 
Indeed,  he  distinctly  claimed  that  he  was  a  subject  of  injustice, 
and  expected  his  reputation  to  shine  fair  and  unblemished. 
His  ingenious,  but  somewhat  weak  defense  of  suicide,  makes 
in  the  same  direction.  In  announcing  his  contempt  of  death 
and  his  faith  in  God,  he  evidently  hoped  to  raise  himself  in  the 
estimation  of  posterity,  to  which,  he  seemed  intuitively  to 
know,  the  story  of  his  life  would  go  down. 

In  the  letter  to  his  friend,  which  he  apparently  had  no  idea 
would  ever  become  public  property,  he  doubtless  embodied 
his  true  feelings,  and  told  of  the  awful  remorse  and  fear  that 


EUGENE  ARAM 


165 

harassed  his  guilty  soul.  Instead  of  maintaining  his  inno¬ 
cence,  as  he  did  by  inference  in  the  first  paper,  designed  as  a 
public  vindication,  he  lays  bare  his  soul  to  his  friend,  and,  in 
express  terms,  admits  his  guilt.  The  entire  letter  tells  of 
remorse  and  despair  of  future  happiness,  and  carries  upon  its 
face  strongs  marks  of  sincerity.  It  would  seem  amply 
sufficient  to  destroy  those  arguments,  many  of  which  have 
been  prepared  in  recent  times,  advanced  to  show  that  Aram 
was  either  entirely  innocent  or  only  very  slightly  culpable. 
That  he  was  a  depraved  and  vicious  man,  no  one  would  now 
claim.  The  worst  that  can  be  said  of  him  is  that  he  yielded  to 
the  temptation  to  secure  wealth  by  unlawful  means,  which 
culminated,  perhaps  against  his  wishes — for  it  is  not  at  all 
improbable  that  Houseman  was  the  leading  spirit  in  the 
undertaking — in  murder. 

This  letter  doubtless  furnished  Thomas  Hood  with  the  sug¬ 
gestion  for  the  remarkable  poem  in  which  he  describes  the 
remorse  of  the  murderer.  Like  Lord  Lytton,  Hood  varied 
the  facts  to  suit  the  demands  of  his  poetic  fancy.  It  is  one  of 
the  most  powerful  and  realistic  poems  in  the  language.  For 
the  benefit  of  those  of  our  readers  who  are  not  familiar  with 
it,  and  also  because  it  seems  to  constitute  an  essential  part  of 
the  literature  of  this  great  case,  it  is  quoted  here,  entire : 


THE  DREAM  OF  EUGENE  ARAM 

’Twas  in  the  prime  of  summertime, 

An  evening  calm  and  cool 

And  four  and  twenty  happy  boys 
Came  bounding  out  of  school: 

There  were  some  that  ran,  and  some  that  leapt, 
Like  troutlets  in  a  pool. 

Away  they  sped  with  gamesome  minds, 

And  souls  untouched  by  sin ; 

To  a  level  mead  they  came,  and  there 
They  drave  the  wickets  in : 

Pleasantly  shone  the  setting  sun 
Over  the  town  of  Lynn. 


i66 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


Like  sportive  deer  they  coursed  about, 

And  shouted  as  they  ran : — 

Turning  to  mirth  all  things  of  earth, 

As  only  boyhood  can ; 

But  the  Usher  sat  remote  from  all, 

A  melancholy  man ! 

His  hat  was  off,  his  vest  apart, 

To  catch  heaven’s  blessed  breeze ; 

For  a  burning  thought  was  in  his  brow, 

And  his  bosom  ill  at  ease ; 

So  he  leaned  his  head  on  his  hands,  and  read 
The  book  between  his  knees ! 

Leaf  after  leaf  he  turned  it  o’er, 

Nor  ever  glanced  aside, 

For  the  peace  of  his  soul  he  read  that  book 
In  the  golden  eventide : 

Much  study  had  made  him  very  lean, 

And  pale,  and  leaden-eyed. 

At  last  he  shut  the  ponderous  tome ; 

With  a  fast  and  fervent  grasp 

He  strained  the  dusky  covers  close, 

And  fixed  the  brazen  hasp ; 

“O  God!  could  I  so  close  my  mind, 

And  clasp  it  with  a  clasp.” 

Then  leaping  on  his  feet  upright, 

Some  moody  turns  he  took, — 

Now  up  the  mead,  then  down  the  mead, 

And  past  a  shady  nook, — 

And  lo !  he  saw  a  little  boy 
That  pored  upon  a  book ! 

“My  gentle  lad,  what  is’t  you  read — 
Romance  or  fairy  fable? 

Or  is  it  some  historic  page, 

Of  kings  and  crowns  unstable?” 

The  young  boy  gave  an  upward  glance, — 
“It  is  ‘The  Death  of  Abel’.” 

The  Usher  took  six  hasty  strides, 

As  smit  with  sudden  pain, — 

Six  hasty  strides  beyond  the  place, 

Then  slowly  back  again ; 

And  down  he  sat  beside  the  lad, 

And  talked  with  him  of  Cain. 


THE  DREAM  OF  EUGENE  ARAM 


167 


And  long,  since  then,  of  bloody  men, 

Whose  deeds  tradition  saves ; 

Of  lonely  folks  cut  off  unseen, 

And  hid  in  sudden  graves ; 

Of  horrid  stabs  in  groves  forlorn, 

And  murders  done  in  caves. 

And  how  the  sprites  of  injured  men 
Shriek  upward  from  the  sod, — 

Ay,  how  the  ghostly  hand  will  point 
To  show  the  burial  clod ; 

And  unknown  facts  of  guilty  acts 
Are  seen  in  dreams  from  God. 

He  told  how  murderers  walk  the  earth 
Beneath  the  curse  of  Cain, — 

With  crimson  clouds  before  their  eyes, 

And  flames  about  their  brain ; 

For  blood  has  left  upon  their  souls 
Its  everlasting  stain ! 

“And  well,”  quoth  he,  “I  know,  for  truth, 
Their  pangs  must  be  extreme, — 

Woe,  woe,  unutterable  woe, — 

Who  spills  life’s  sacred  stream! 

For  why?  Methought,  last  night,  I  wrought 
A  murder  in  a  dream ! 

“One  that  had  never  done  me  wrong, — 

A  feeble  man  and  old ; 

I  led  him  to  a  lonely  field, — 

The  moon  shone  clear  and  cold ; 

Now  here,  said  I*,  this  man  shall  die 
And  I  will  have  his  gold ! 

‘  ‘Two  sudden  blows  with  a  ragged  stick, 
And  one  with  a  heavy  stone, 

One  hurried  gash  with  a  hasty  knife, — 

And  then  the  deed  was  done ; 

There  was  nothing  lying  at  my  foot 
But  lifeless  flesh  and  bone ! 

“Nothing  but  lifeless  flesh  and  bone, 

That  could  not  do  me  ill ; 

And  yet  I  feared  him  all  the  more, 

For  lying  there  so  still; 

There  was  a  manhood  in  his  look, 

That  murder  could  not  kill ! 


i68 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


“And  lo!  the  universal  air 
Seemed  lit  with  ghastly  flame ; — 

Ten  thousand  thousand  dreadful  eyes 
Were  looking  down  in  blame; 

I  took  the  dead  man  by  his  hand, 

And  called  upon  his  name ! 

“O,  God!  it  made  me  quake  to  see 
Such  sense  within  the  slain ! 

But  when  I  touched  the  lifeless  clay, 

The  blood  gushed  out  amain ! 

For  every  clot,  a  burning  spot 
Was  scorching  in  my  brain! 

“My  head  was  like  an  ardent  coal, 

My  heart  as  solid  ice ; 

My  wretched,  wretched  soul.  I  knew, 

Was  at  the  devil’s  price; 

A  dozen  times  I  groaned ;  the  dead 
Had  never  groaned  but  twice ! 

‘  ‘And  now,  from  forth  the  frowning  sky, 
From  the  heaven’s  topmost  height, 

I  heard  a  voice — the  awful  voice 
Of  the  blood-avenging  sprite ; — 

Thou  guilty  man !  take  up  thy  dead 
And  hide  it  from  my  sight ! 

“I  took  the  dreary  body  up 
And  cast  it  in  a  stream, — 

A  sluggish  water,  black  as  ink, 

The  depth  was  so  extreme : — 

My  gentle  Boy,  remember  this 
Is  nothing  but  a  dream ! 

“Down  went  the  corse  with  a  hollow  plunge, 
And  vanished  in  the  pool ; 

Anon  I  cleansed  my  bloody  hands, 

And  washed  my  forehead  cool, 

And  sat  among  the  urchins  young, 

That  evening,  in  the  school. 

“O,  Heaven!  to  think  of  their  white  souls, 
And  mine  so  black  and  grim ! 

T  could  not  share  in  childish  prayer, 

Nor  join  in  evening  hymn ; 

Like  a  devil  of  the  pit  I  seemed, 

'Mid  holy  cherubim ! 


THE  DREAM  OF  EUGENE  ARAM  169 


“And  peace  went  with  them,  one  and  all, 
And  each  calm  pillow  spread ; 

But  Guilt  was  my  grim  chamberlain 
That  lighted  me  to  bed ; 

And  drew  my  midnight  curtains  round, 

With  fingers  bloody  red ! 

“All  night  I  lay  in  agony, 

In  anguish  dark  and  deep; 

My  fevered  eyes  I  dared  not  close, 

But  stared  aghast  at  sleep ; 

For  sin  had  rendered  unto  her 
The  keys  of  hell  to  keep ! 

“All  night  I  lay  in  agony, 

From  weary  chime  to  chime, 

With  one  besetting  horrid  hint, 

That  racked  me  all  the  time ; 

A  mighty  yearning,  like  the  first 
Fierce  impulse  unto  crime! 

“One  stern  tyrannic  thought,  that  made 
All  other  thoughts  its  slave ; 

Stronger  and  stronger  every  pulse 
Did  that  temptation  crave, — 

Still  urging  me  to  go  and  see 
The  dead  man  in  his  grave ! 

“Heavily  I  rose  up,  as  soon 
As  light  was  in  the  sky, 

And  sought  the  black  accursed  pool 
With  wild  misgiving  eye ; 

And  now  I  saw  the  dead  in  the  river  bed, 
For  the  faithless  stream  was  dry. 

“Merrily  rose  the  lark,  and  shook 
The  dew-drop  from  its  wing ; 

But  I  never  marked  its  morning  flight, 

I  never  heard  it  sing ; 

For  I  was  stooping  once  again 
Under  the  horrid  thing. 

“With  breathless  speed,  like  a  soul  in  chase, 
I  took  him  up  and  ran ; — 

There  was  no  time  to  dig  a  grave 
Before  the  day  began ; 

In  a  lonesome  wood,  with  heaps  of  leaves, 

I  hid  the  murdered  man ! 


170 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


“And  all  that  day  I  read  in  school, 

But  my  thought  was  other  where ; 

As  soon  as  the  mid-day  task  was  done, 

In  secret  I  was  there ; 

And  a  mighty  wind  had  swept  the  leaves, 
And  still  the  corse  was  bare ! 

“Then  down  I  cast  me  on  my  face, 

And  first  began  to  weep, 

For  I  knew  my  secret  then  was  one 
That  earth  refused  to  keep ; 

Or  land  or  sea,  though  he  should  be 
Ten  thousand  fathoms  deep. 

“So  wills  the  fierce  avenging  Sprite, 

Till  blood  for  blood  atones ! 

Ay,  though  he’s  buried  in  a  cave, 

And  trodden  down  with  stones, 

And  years  have  rotted  off  his  flesh, — 

The  world  shall  see  his  bones ! 

“O,  God!  that  horrid,  horrid  dream 
Besets  me  now  awake ! 

Again,  again  with  dizzy  brain, 

The  human  life  I  take ; 

And  my  red  right  hand  grows  raging  hot. 
Like  Cranmer’s  at  the  stake. 

“And  still  no  peace  for  the  restless  clay1 
Will  wave  or  mould  allow; 

The  horrid  thing  pursues  my  soul, — 

It  stands  before  me  now!” 

The  fearful  boy  looked  up  and  saw 
Huge  drops  upon  his  brow. 

That  very  night,  while  gentle  sleep 
The  urchin  eyelids  kissed, 

Two  stern-faced  men  set  out  from  Lynn, 
Through  the  cold  and  heavy  mist ; 

And  Eugene  Aram  walked  between 
With  gyves  upon  his  wrist. 


CHAPTER  XI 


JUDICIAL  MURDER 

Scarcely  any  one  is  so  ingenuous  as  to  be  ignorant  of  the 
fact  that  the  scales  of  the  “blind  goddess”  are  not  always  held 
aloft  with  a  fair  and  unwavering  hand.  We  all  know  that 
human  nature  is  frail,  and  that  the  real  character  of  a  man  is 
not  changed  by  wrapping  his  form  in  an  official  robe  and 
elevating  him  to  a  seat  upon  the  wool-sack.  Judicial  corrup¬ 
tion  has  generally  been  discovered  in  cases  of  a  civil  nature, 
where  property  rights  were  involved,  and  a  certain  ruling  of 
the  court  was  considered  worth  a  certain  sum  of  money  by  one 
or  the  other  of  the  parties  in  interest.  So  great  and  distin¬ 
guished  a  lawyer  and  jurist  as  Lord  Bacon  pleaded  guilty  to 
a  large  number  of  indictments  for  receiving  bribes  while 
sitting  in  the  exalted  position  of  Lord  Chancellor  of  England. 

But  in  a  criminal  action  on  the  part  of  the  State,  where 
the  defendant  is  on  trial  for  his  life,  judicial  corruption  is  not 
frequent,  and  where  the  precedents  of  the  law  are  strained 
somewhat,  it  is  usually  in  favor  of  the  accused,  whose  unhappy 
predicament  excites  the  commiseration  of  a  tender-hearted 
judge.  Yet,  since  the  establishment  of  the  first  court  of 
criminal  jurisdiction,  down  almost  to  the  present  day,  men 
have  been  unjustly  condemned  to  death.  Except  in  rare 
instances,  this  has  not  resulted  in  bribes  in  the  form  of 
money.  Sometimes  judges  have  listened  to  the  clamor  of  an 
enraged  and  prejudiced  populace  or  have  yielded  to  personal, 
political  and  religious  bias.  The  effect  of  the  latter  may  be 
noted  in  many  of  the  almost  innumerable  trials  for  witchcraft, 
which  for  centuries  stained  the  judicial  records  of  Europe  and 
finally  crossed  the  ocean  and  disgraced  our  early  colonial  his¬ 
tory.  In  most  instances,  probably,  these  judicial  crimes  were 

171 


172 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


chargeable  to  judicial  ignorance,  which,  at  the  best,  only 
reduces  the  enormity  of  the  offense.  So  distinguished  a 
judge  as  Sir  Matthew  Hale,  Chief  Justice  of  England,  con¬ 
demned  some  women,  convicted  of  witchcraft,  to  ignominious 
death,  and  avowed  his  full  faith  in  the  delusion  of  that  age, 
declaring  that  it  was  a  most  grave  and  dangerous  crime. 

By  far  the  greater  portion  of  judicial  murders  have  been 
committed  at  the  instance  of  authorities  higher  than  the 
presiding  judge,  and  thus  assume  the  form  of  conspiracy. 
Thousands  of  men  have  been  elevated  to  judicial  positions, 
not  by  reason  of  their  legal  knowledge  or  honorable  character, 
but  rather  because  they  were  corrupt  at  heart  and  could  be 
used  to  further  the  murderous  schemes  of  king,  queen  or  prime 
minister.  In  the  nature  of  things,  judicial  murders  can  easily 
be  perpetrated  without  the  fact  becoming  public,  and  probably 
not  one  instance  in  ten  has  ever  come  to  the  light. 

The  most  sweeping,  wholesale  condemnations  to  death, 
under  the  forms  of  law,  of  men  whose  conviction  and  death 
had  already  been  determined  upon  and  whose  trial  was  a 
hideous  farce,  occurred  under  the  “Reign  of  Terror,”  during 
the  French  Revolution.  Hundreds,  thousands,  of  men  and 
women,  some  guilty,  most  of  them  innocent,  were  condemned 
and  guillotined.  To  be  denounced  by  one  of  “the  leaders  of 
the  people”  was  equivalent  to  a  sentence  of  death.  The 
judges  generally  did  their  work  willingly  enough,  for  the 
impulse  to  kill  had  fairly  become  epidemic,  and  ran  riot 
through  Paris.  An  honest  and  unbiased  judge  could  not, 
however,  have  done  otherwise — and  retained  his  own  life. 
Trials  were  conducted  in  the  most  abitrary  manner,  and  judg¬ 
ments  rendered  without  the  slightest  reference  to  either  the 
law  or  the  evidence.  While  such  proceedings  cannot  be  too 
strongly  condemned,  it  must  be  remembered  that  they 
occurred  at  a  time  which  suggests  the  words  of  Marc 
Antony  upon  the  occasion  of  the  assassination  of  Julius  Caesar: 
“Oh,  Judgment!  thou  hast  fled  to  brutish  beasts,  and  men 
have  lost  their  reason!” 

The  most  systematic  and  wholesale  judicial  murders  that 
have  occurred  in  modern  times,  were  committed  in  England 


JUDICIAL  MURDER 


i73 


during  the  latter  part  of  the  seventeenth  century.  Although 
occurring  more  than  a  hundred  years  before  those  of  the 
French  Revolution,  they  excite  greater  wonder,  because  they 
were  perpetrated  in  a  time  of  comparative  domestic  peace, 
under  a  constitutional  government,  and  in  a  country  where 
trial  by  jury  originated  and  has  ever  been  treated  with  the 
most  profound  respect.  While  illustrating  murder  through 
motives  of  revenge,  cupidity  and  the  operation  of  the  homi¬ 
cidal  impulse,  they  likewise  show  to  what  extent  notions  of 
political  liberty  and  religion  can  become  perverted  and 
debased.  The  first  of  two  series  of  most  outrageous  judicial 
murders  dated  from  the  discovery  of  what  has  passed  into 
history  as  “The  Popish  Plot.”  This  was  in  the  year 
1678.  At  this  time  England  was  torn  by  dissensions.  Charles 
II.  sat  upon  the  throne  that  had  been  made  vacant  by  the 
execution  of  his  father.  The  triumph  of  the  Puritan  party 
and  the  Commonwealth,  under  the  direction  of  Oliver 
Cromwell,  were  things  of  the  recent  past.  Charles  was  sus¬ 
pected  of  being  a  Papist,  while  his  brother  James,  the  direct 
heir  to  the  throne,  was  a  pronounced  Catholic.  Less  than  a 
century  and  a  half  had  elapsed  since  the  Protestant  Reforma¬ 
tion  had  shown  itself  in  England,  and  religious  feeling,  not  to 
say  bigotry,  was  at  its  flood-tide.  The  Protestant  element, 
which  largely  predominated,  feared  that,  with  James  upon  the 
throne,  a  long  line  of  Catholic  rulers  might  be  fastened  upon 
the  nation.  A  feeling  of  uncertainty  and  unrest  was  every¬ 
where  present.  Hatred  of  the  Catholic  religion  had  become  a 
positive  passion.  Nor  was  this  confined  to  men  truly  reli¬ 
gious;  it  pervaded  all  grades  of  societ3r,  and  affected  the 
irreligious  and  profane  to  a  greater  extent,  even,  than  those 
who  were  Protestant  from  genuine  religious  conviction.  The 
cruelties  of  the  reign  of  “Bloody  Mary,”  the  numerous  con¬ 
spiracies  against  Elizabeth,  the  famous  Gunpowder  Plot,  and 
various  other  occurrences  of  lesser  note,  so  far  from  being 
forgotten,  were  perpetuated  and  rendered  living  forces  by 
annual  commemorations,  prayers,  bonfires  and  parades. 
Much  of  the  hatred  that  had  been  bestowed  upon  Puritanism 
was  transferred  to  the  adherents  of  the  See  of  Rome.  In 


174 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


brief,  the  feeling  against  Catholics  was  exceedingly  bitter, 
and  everywhere  plainly  outspoken. 

It  is  necessary  also  that  the  reader  have  some  sort  of 
understanding  of  the  political  condition  of  England  at  this 
period,  else  he  would  fail  to  appreciate  the  high  tension  to 
which  the  people  were  strung.  At  this  time,  the  nation  was 
divided  into  two  great  political  parties.  The  Whigs  took  their 
name  front  the  rustics  of  the  Western  Lowlands,  who  had  long 
been  known  by  that  term.  They  were  zealots  in  the  Protes¬ 
tant  cause,  and  strenuously  objected  to  a  Catholic  prince  sit¬ 
ting  on  the  throne  of  England  and  Scotland.  The  term  Tory 
was  derived  from  certain  Papish  outlaws  who  took  refuge  in 
the  bogs  of  Ireland  and  successfully  defied  the  authorities. 
From  this  beginning,  the  name  Tory  spread  over  the  king¬ 
dom,  and  came  to  include,  not  alone  Catholics,  but  all  those 
who  did  not  join  in  the  popular  movement  to  render  Roman 
Catholic  princes  ineligible  to  the  throne. 

The  “Popish  Plot,”  which  shook  England  to  its  founda¬ 
tions,  and  has  left  a  distinct  effect  upon  English  opinions, 
plainly  discernible  even  at  the  present  day,  was  the  discovery, 
or  more  properly,  the  invention,  of  one  Titus  Oates.  This 
man,  whose  name  has  become  a  synonym  for  perjury,  was  a 
clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England.  He  had  led  a  most 
depraved  life,  which  culminated  in  his  being  compelled  to 
give  up  his  benefice  and  lead  a  wandering,  vagrant  sort  of  life. 
During  this  time  he  went  to  the  Continent,  where  he  pro¬ 
fessed  the  Roman  Catholic  religion,  and  became  connected 
with  various  Jesuit  colleges.  There,  it  appears,  he  had  heard 
much  discussion  as  to  the  best  means  to  reclaim  England  to 
the  original  church.  These  hints  were  enough  to  furnish  a 
starting  point  for  one  of  the  inventive  and  corrupt  mind  of 
Oates.  Upon  his  return  to  England  he  announced  himself 
as  a  Protestant,  and  secured  a  minor  position  in  the  church, 
which  brought  him  but  a  trifle  in  the  way  of  money,  not  suf¬ 
ficient  to  enable  him  to  indulge  his  depraved  and  vicious 
tastes. 

In  the  latter  part  of  September,  1678,  Titus  decided  that 
the  time  was  ripe  for  the  hideous  plot  he  had  long  been  cun- 


JUDICIAL  MURDER 


i75 


ningly  devising,  and  he  proceeded  to  give  it  publicity.  He 
declared  that  the  Pope  had  given  the  Jesuits  absolute  control 
of  England,  with  authority  to  do  what  they  pleased  and  to 
subject  it  to  themselves.  He  claimed  that  this  society  had 
already  apportioned  all  the  official  positions,  civil  as  well  as 
religious,  among  well  known  and  trusted  Catholics,  who  were 
only  awaiting  a  favorable  opportunity  to  enter  into  their  pos¬ 
session.  He  pointed  out  that  the  Papists  had  burned  London 
only  twenty  years  before,  and  declared  that  they  were  mak¬ 
ing  ready  to  do  it  again.  They  were  only  awaiting  an 
agreed  signal  to  rise  and  put  all  Protestants  to  death,  while  a 
French  army  was,  simultaneously,  to  be  landed  in  Ireland. 
As  for  the  Ring,  his  doom  was  sealed,  many  sub-plots  having 
been  formed  for  his  assassination  by  the  poniard,  the  pistol 
and  poisoning.  Such  was  the  state  of  the  public  mind,  that 
his  grossly  improbable  lies  found  ready,  eager  credence,  and 
something  like  a  panic  swept  over  the  city  of  London,  and 
gradually  spread  throughout  all  England.  Fortunately  for 
Oates  and  the  success  of  his  infamous  scheme,  which  had  no 
higher  aim  than  to  make  money  and  notoriety  for  himself, 
two  incidents  happened  at  this  time  which  tended  to  reinforce 
his  statements. 

One  Edward  Coleman,  a  somewhat  suspicious  Catholic 
intriguer,  was  arrested  upon  information  furnished  by  Oates. 
He  had  destroyed  the  greater  portion  of  his  papers,  but  among 
those  seized  were  a  few  which,  when  liberally  interpreted, 
seemed  to  confirm  some  of  the  statements  made  by  the 
enterprising  Titus.  What,  the  people  reasoned,  must  have 
been  the  character  of  those  documents  committed  to  the 
flames,  when  those  he  had  not  thought  necessary  to  destroy 
were  incriminating?  This  raised  the  informer  in  the  popular 
estimation.  The  deposition  of  Oates  against  Coleman  had 
been  made  before  Sir  Edmondsbury  Godfrey,  an  eminent  and 
very  moderate  justice  of  the  peace,  and  a  few  days  thereafter 
he  mysteriously  disappeared.  Search  being  made,  his  corpse 
was  found  in  an  open  field  near  London.  It  was  certain  that 
he  had  been  murdered,  and  equally  sure  that  the  crime  had 
not  been  committed  for  purposes  of  gain.  His  death  remains 


ij6 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


to  this  day  one  of  the  dark  mysteries  so  frequently  to  be  met 
with  in  the  history  of  homicide.  All  sorts  of  theories  were 
suggested.  Some  said  that  he  was  a  suicide;  some  that  a 
private  enemy  had  killed  him  from  motives  of  revenge; 
others  that  Oates  had  had  him  put  to  death  to  sustain  his  own 
disclosures;  while  the  general  opinion  was  that  the  justice  had 
fallen  a  victim  to  Popish  revenge,  and  that  this  was  the  begin¬ 
ning  of  the  great  plot.  Certain  it  is  that  everybody  took  the 
alarm;  Papists  were  arrested  by  hundreds,  and  the  jails  were 
overcrowded;  the  streets  were  barricaded  in  places;  the  train- 
bands  were  constantly  on  duty;  cannon  were  placed  around 
Whitehall;  everybod}^  went  armed;  the  Houses  of  Parliament 
were  heavily  guarded  to  prevent  a  second  Gunpowder  Plot. 

In  the  meantime,  Titus  had  secured  no  letters  patent  to 
protect  his  great  invention,  and  numerous  aspiring  imitators 
came  forward  to  divide  his  doubtful  “honors,”  and  reap  a 
portion  of  his  prospective  pecuniary  profits.  One  knew  of  an 
army  of  thirty  thousand  men  that  was  about  to  descend  upon 
Wales;  another  had  been  offered  a  large  sum,  and  a  certain 
place  among  the  blessed  saints,  if  he  would  murder  King 
Charles,  while  still  another  had  heard  a  prominent  Catholic 
banker  swear  to  kill  the  usurping  tyrant.  But  Oates  had  no 
idea  of  being  dispossessed  of  his  preempted  rights,  and 
speedily  came  forward  with  a  set  of  lies  more  absurd  than  he 
had.  at  first  dared  to  offer.  These  were  eagerly  listened  to, 
and  bodily  swallowed,  so  great  was  the  general  alarm. 

Then  began  vengeance,  and  judicial  murder  walked 
rampant.  The  Whigs  encouraged  the  movement,  and  found 
ready  tools  in  the  chief  judges  of  the  realm,  who  were  at  once 
corrupt,  cruel  and  cowardly.  The  leading  men  of  England  no 
doubt  believed  the  whole  story  to  be  pure  fiction,  but  it  pro¬ 
vided  a  means  to  rid  themselves  of  some  of  their  enemies,  and 
they  professed  the  most  complete  faith.  Oates  and  his  con¬ 
federates  were  now  in  the  greatest  demand.  Two  witnesses 
were  necessary  to  secure  a  conviction  of  treason,  and  these 
were  always  forthcoming.  Among  them  all,  Oates  was  the 
acknowledged  leader.  Cunning  and  shameless,  he  perjured 
himself  with  an  ease  and  versatility  that  would  have  done 


JUDICIAL  MURDER 


177 


credit  to  the  Father  of  Lies.  The  juries  were  made  up  of  men 
violently  prejudiced  and  badly  frightened,  while  the  judges, 
without  regard  to  the  character  of  the  witnesses  or  the 
insufficiency  of  the  evidence,  constantly  advised,  and  in  some 
cases  forced,  verdicts  of  guilty,  which  received  the  plaudits  of 
the  multitude.  As  a  result  of  the  Popish  Plot,  large  numbers 
of  men,  some  of  them  occupying  positions  of  distinction, 
nearly  all  of  whom  were  doubtless  entirely  innocent,  were 
murdered. 

After  a  time,  however,  the  inevitable  reaction  began  to  set 
in,  and  an  accusation  was  no  longer  equivalent  to  a  convic¬ 
tion.  Oates  and  his  colleagues  had  not  lost  the  art  of  lying, 
but  the  people  were  becoming  less  credulous. 

This  reaction  finally  carried  down  the  men  who  had 
engineered  the  plot,  and  with  them  Oates  himself.  Retribu¬ 
tion  did  not,  however,  overtake  the  infamous  perjurer  until 
Charles  was  dead,  and  his  Catholic  brother,  James,  had 
ascended  the  throne.  Not  long  before  his  ascension  James 
had  brought  a  civil  suit  against  Oates,  and  had  secured  a  ver¬ 
dict  in  the  enormous  sum  of  a  hundred  thousand  pounds.  He 
was  committed  to  prison  as  a  debtor,  and  was  without  hope  of 
release. 

Oates  was  brought  to  trial  on  two  charges  of  perjury.  “It 
was  proved  beyond  all  possibility  of  doubt,”  wrote  Lord 
Macaulay,  “that  this  man  had  by  false  testimony  deliberately 
murdered  several  guiltless  persons.  He  called  in  vain  upon 
the  most  eminent  members  of  the  Parliaments  which  had 
rewarded  and  extolled  him,  to  give  evidence  in  his  favor. 
Some  of  those  whom  he  had  summoned  absented  themselves. 
None  of  them  said  anything  tending  to  his  vindication.  One 
of  them,  the  Earl  of  Huntingdon,  bitterly  reproached  him 
with  having  deceived  the  Houses  and  drawn  on  them  the  guilt 
of  shedding  innocent  blood.  The  judges  browbeat  and  reviled 
the  prisoner  with  an  intemperance  which,  even  in  the  most 
atrocious  cases,  ill  becomes  the  judicial  character.  He 
betrayed,  however,  no  sign  of  fear,  or  of  shame,  and  faced 
the  storm  of  invective  which  burst  upon  him  from  the  bar, 
bench,  and  witness  box,  with  the  insolence  of  despair.  He 


178 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


was  convicted  on  both  indictments.  His  offense,  though,  in  a 
moral  light,  murder  of  the  most  aggravated  kind,  was,  in  the 
eye  of  the  law,  merely  a  misdemeanor.  The  tribunal,  how¬ 
ever,  was  desirous  to  make  his  punishment  more  severe  than 
that  of  felons  or  traitors,  and  not  merely  to  put  him  to  death, 
but  to  put  him  to  death  by  frightful  torments.  He  was  sen¬ 
tenced  to  be  stripped  of  his  clerical  habit,  to  be  pilloried  in 
Palace  Yard,  to  be  led  round  Westminster  Hall  with  an 
inscription  declaring  his  infamy  over  his  head,  to  be  pilloried 
again  in  front  of  the  Royal  Exchange,  to  be  whipped  from 
Aldgate  to  Newgate,  and,  after  an  interval  of  two  days,  to  be 
whipped  from  Newgate  to  Tyburn.  If,  against  all  proba¬ 
bility,  he  should  happen  to  survive  this  horrible  infliction,  he 
was  to  be  kept  close  prisoner  during  life.  Five  times  every 
year  he  was  to  be  brought  forth  from  his  dungeon  and  exposed 
on  the  pillory  in  different  parts  of  the  capital. 

“This  rigorous  sentence  was  rigorously  executed.  On  the 
day  on  which  Oates  was  to  be  pilloried  in  Palace  Yard  he  was 
mercilessly  pelted  and  ran  some  risk  of  being  pulled  in  pieces. 
But  in  the  city  his  partisans  mustered  in  great  force,  raised  a 
riot,  and  upset  the  pillory.  They  were,  however,  unable  to 
rescue  their  favorite.  It  was  supposed  that  he  would  try  to 
escape  the  horrible  doom  which  awaited  him  by  swallowing 
poison.  All  that  he  ate  and  drank  was  therefore  carefully 
inspected.  On  the  following  morning  he  was  brought  forth  to 
undergo  his  first  flogging.  At  an  early  hour  an  innumerable 
multitude  filled  all  the  streets  from  Aldgate  to  the  Old  Bailey. 
The  hangman  laid  on  the  lash  with  such  unusual  severity  as 
showed  that  he  had  received  special  instructions.  The  blood 
ran  down  in  rivulets.  For  a  time  the  criminal  showed  a 
strange  constancy;  but  at  last  his  stubborn  fortitude  gave 
way.  His  bellowings  were  frightful  to  hear.  He  swooned 
several  times;  but  the  scourge  still  continued  to  descend. 
When  he  was  unbound,  it  seemed  that  he  had  borne  as  much 
as  the  human  frame  can  bear  without  dissolution.  James  was 
entreated  to  remit  the  second  flogging.  His  answer  was  short 
and  clear:  ‘He  shall  go  through  with  it  if  he  has  breath  in  his 
body.’  An  attempt  was  made  to  obtain  the  Queen’s  inter- 


179 


* 


JUDICIAL  MURDER 

cession;  but  she  indignantly  refused  to  say  a  word  in  favor  of 
such  a  wretch.  After  an  interval  of  forty-eight  hours,  Oates 
was  again  brought  out  of  his  dungeon.  He  was  unable  to 
stand,  and  it  was  necessary  to  drag  him  to  Tyburn  on  a 
sledge.  He  was  quite  insensible;  and  the  Tories  reported 
that  he  had  stupefied  himself  with  strong  drink.  A  person 
who  counted  the  stripes  on  the  second  day  said  that  they  were 
seventeen  hundred.  The  bad  man  escaped  with  life,  but  so 
narrowly  that  his  ignorant  and  bigoted  admirers  thought  his 
recovery  miraculous,  and  appealed  to  it  as  a  proof  of  his  inno¬ 
cence.  The  doors  of  the  prison  closed  upon  him.  During 
many  months  he  remained  ironed  in  the  darkest  hole  of  New¬ 
gate.  It  was  said  that  in  his  cell  he  gave  himself  up  to 
melancholy,  and  sat  whole  days  uttering  deep  groans,  his  arms 
folded,  and  his  hat  pulled  over  his  eyes.” 

For  three  and  a  half  years  this  infamous  wretch  sat  in  his 
cell  at  Newgate,  except  when  placed  in  the  pillory.  In  the 
interest  of  justice  he  should  have  been  suffered  to  die  there. 
But  many  fanatics  still  regarded  him  as  a  martyr,  and  after 
William  and  Mary  ascended  the  throne,  a  movement  was 
started  to  secure  his  release  on  the  ground  that  his  sentence 
to  perpetual  imprisonment  was  unlawful.  After  a  legal 
struggle,  almost  without  parallel  in  the  judicial  history  of 
England,  and  which  involved  a  hard  conflict  between  the  two 
Houses  of  Parliament,  the  Lords  bitterly  opposing  his  release, 
Oates  was  given  his  freedom.  Not  satisfied  with  this,  the 
House  of  Commons  took  up  his  cause  and  secured  him  a  pen¬ 
sion  of  about  three  hundred  pounds  a  year.  After  an  effort  to 
get  himself  reinstated  in  the  Established  Church,  he  became  a 
devout  Baptist.  His  real  character  was  soon  discovered, 
however,  and  he  was  expelled  from  the  society.  He  died  at 
the  advanced  age  of  eighty-six  years. 

The  religious  system  of  the  Parsees,  or  Fire  Worshipers, 
accounts  for  the  existence  of  evil  in  the  world  on  the  theory 
that  there  were  two  creators,  both  subject  to  the  “Supreme 
Essence,”  one  of  whom,  Ornruzd,  brought  into  being  all  good 
and  desirable  things,  while  the  other,  Ahriman,  was  engaged 
in  creating  evil  things  to  offset  their  effect.  The  lives  of  mil- 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


1 80 

lions  of  men  have  been  compliments  to  human  nature,  but 
seemingly  as  large  a  number  have  been  engaged  in  offsetting 
the  good  accomplished  by  their  virtuous  brothers,  and  in 
lowering  the  standard  of  genuine  manhood.  Among  all  the 
detestable  wretches  whose  lives  have  darkened  the  pages  of 
history  since  the  days  of  Commodus,  not  one  is  more  univer¬ 
sally  and  justly  maligned  and  detested  than  George  Jeffreys,  of 
all  the  dishonest,  inhuman  judges  who  ever  dispensed  justice 
— or  rather,  dispensed  with  justice — undoubtedly  the  first  and 
foremost.  His  depravity  has  passed  into  a  proverb,  and  among 
the  various  political  parties  and  religious  faiths  of  England,  or 
indeed,  the  civilized  world,  no  voice  is  ever  raised,  no  pen  ever 
employed  to  defend  or  vindicate  his  memory.  So  remarkable 
was  this  man’s  career  of  infamy,  so  brutal  his  conduct,  and  so 
entirely  was  he  subject  to  the  fiendish  impulse  to  take  human 
life,  that  some  account  of  his  character  and  judicial  methods 
cannot  fail  to  interest  and  instruct.  The  following  is  quoted 
from  Thomas  Babington  Macaulay,  one  of  the  best  of  all  recent 
chroniclers  of  English  history. 

“He  was  a  man  of  quick  and  vigorous  parts,  but  constitu¬ 
tionally  prone  to  insolence  and  to  angry  passions.  When  just 
emerging  from  boyhood,  he  had  risen  into  practice  at  the  Old 
Bailey  Bar,  a  bar  where  advocates  have  always  used  a  license 
of  tongue  unknown  in  Westminster  Hall.  Here,  during  many 
years  his  chief  business  was  to  examine  and  cross-examine  the 
most  hardened  miscreants  of  a  great  capital.  Daily  conflicts 
with  prostitutes  and  thieves  called  out  and  exercised  his 
powers  so  effectually  that  he  became  the  most  consummate 
bully  ever  known  in  his  profession.  Tenderness  for  others  and 
respect  for  himself  were  feelings  alike  unknown  to  kim.  He 
acquired  a  boundless  command  of  the  rhetoric  in  which  the 
vulgar  express  hatred  and  contempt.  The  profusion  of  male¬ 
dictions  and  vituperative  epithets  which  composed  his  vocabu¬ 
lary  could  hardly  have  been  rivaled  in  the  fish-market  or  the 
beer  garden.  His  countenance  and  his  voice  must  always  have 
been  unamiable.  But  these  natural  advantages, — for  such  he 
seems  to  have  thought  them, — he  had  improved  to  such  a 
degree  that  there  were  few  who,  in  his  paroxysms  of  rage, 


JUDICIAL  MURDER 


181 


could  see  or  hear  him  without  emotion.  Impudence  and 
ferocity  sate  upon  his  brow.  The  glare  of  his  eyes  had  a 
fascination  for  the  unhappy  victim  on  whom  they  were  fixed. 
Yet  his  brow  and  his  eye  were  less  terrible  than  the  savage 
lines  of  his  mouth.  His  yell  of  fury,  as  was  said  by  one  who 
had  often  heard  it,  sounded  like  the  thunder  of  the  judgment 
day.  These  qualifications  he  carried,  while  still  a  young  man, 
from  the  bar  to  the  bench.  He  early  became  Common  Ser¬ 
geant,  and  then  Recorder  of  London.  As  a  judge  at  the  City 
Sessions,  he  exhibited  the  same  propensities  which  afterwards, 
in  a  higher  post,  gained  for  him  an  unenviable  immortality. 
Already  might  be  remarked  in  him  the  most  odious  vice 
which  is  incident  to  human  nature,*  a  delight  in  misery  merely 
as  misery.  There  was  a  fiendish  exultation  in  the  way  in 
which  he  pronounced  sentence  on  offenders.  Their  weeping 
and  imploring  seemed  to  titillate  him  voluptuously;  and  he 
loved  to  scare  them  into  fits  by  dilating  with  luxuriant  amplifi¬ 
cation  on  all  the  details  of  what  they  were  to  suffer.  Thus, 
when  he  had  an  opportunity  of  ordering  an  unlucky  adven¬ 
turess  to  be  whipped  at  the  cart’s  tail,  ‘Hangman,’  he  would 
exclaim,  ‘I  charge  you  to  pay  particular  attention  to  this  lady! 
Scourge  her  soundly,  man!  Scourge  her  till  the  blood  runs 
down!  It  is  Christmas,  a  cold  time  for  madame  to  strip  in! 
See  that  you  warm  her  shoulders  thoroughly!’  He  was 
hardly  less  facetious  when  he  passed  judgment  on  poor  Lodo- 
wick  Muggleton,  the  drunken  tailor  who  fancied  himself  a 
prophet.  ‘Impudent  rogue!’  roared  Jeffreys,  ‘thou  shalt 
have  an  easy,  easy,  easy  punishment!’  One  part  of  this  easy 
punishment  was  the  pillory,  in  which  the  wretched  fanatic  was 
almost  killed  with  brick-bats.” 

Such  was  the  real  character  of  the  man  chosen  by  James, 
Duke  of  York,  to  carry  into  effect  the  plans  of  revenge  that  he 
had  formed  against  his  enemies  and  against  those  who  had 
been  instrumental  in  persecuting  Catholics.  This  will  appear 
strange  when  it  is  understood  that  Jeffreys  had  announced 
himself  as  a  Roundhead,  and  had  taken  a  prominent  part  in 
condemning  innocent  men  to  death  upon  the  perjured  testi¬ 
mony  of  OatQS  and  his  ill-favored  colleagues.  More  than 


/ 


1 8 2  MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 

that,  Charles  knew  the  real  character  of  the  tin  just  and 
tyrannical  judge.  Titus  Oates  never  wearied  of  quoting  a 
remark  which  the  King  applied  to  Jeffreys:  “That  man  has  no 
learning,  no  sense,  no  manners,  and  more  impudence  than  ten 
carted  street-walkers.”  But  James  had  work  to  do,  and  saw 
in  Jeffreys  the  man  to  carry  it  forward,  and  he  induced  his 
brother  to  elevate  him  to  the  high  position  of  Chief  Justice  of 
the  king’s  bench.  It  mattered  little  to  this  human  monstrosity 
which  side  of  any  cause  he  espoused,  so  long  as  he  was  offered 
an  opportunity  of  exercising  his  venomous  hatred  of  human¬ 
kind  and  indulging  the  impulse  to  take  life,  which  seems  to 
have  become  a  veritable  passion  with  him.  Accordingly,  he 
entered  with  alacrity  upon  The  discharge  of  his  infanious 
duties. 

His  first  recompense  for  the  high  honor  and  magnificent 
emoluments  that  had  been  bestowed  upon  him,  consisted  in 
the  judicial  murder  of  Algernon  Sidney,  a  grand-nephew  of 
the  famous  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  and  one  of  the  leading  men  of 
England.  He  was  tried  for  high  treason  and  convicted, 
under  the  direction  of  Jeffreys,  upon  the  merest  mockery  of 
evidence.  On  the  7th  of  December,  1683,  he  was  beheaded  on 
Tower  Hill.  He  met  his  death  with  the  greatest  fortitude, 
and  has  since  been  almost  canonized  in  English  hearts  as  a 
patriot,  hero  and  martyr.  So  entirely  satisfied  was  James 
with  his  bloody  tool,  that,  soon  after  his  elevation  to  the 
throne,  he  bestowed  on  him  a  peerage  and  a  seat  in  the  cabi¬ 
net.  When  it  is  understood  that  not  since  the  thirteenth 
century  had  any  chief-justice  been  permitted  to  sit  in  the 
House  of  Lords,  it  will  be  seen  that  James  appreciated  his 
avenger  at  his  true  worth;  indeed,  no  two  men  in  England 
were  more  completely  of  the  same  kidney. 

James  had  not  long  occupied  the  throne  when  an  oppor¬ 
tunity  to  utilize  the  services  of  Jeffreys  and  wreak  a  deep 
revenge  upon  those  whom  he  regarded  as  his  enemies  pre¬ 
sented  itself.  During  the  lifetime  of  Charles  II.,  a  great  deal  of 
trouble  had  been  caused  by  James,  Duke  of  Monmouth,  a 
natural  son  of  the  King,  who,  by  his  humanity  in  treating  the 
Scotch  Covenanters  in  1659,  had  become  the  idol  of  the  non- 


JUDICIAL  MURDER 


183 

conformists.  By  1680  he  had  become  the  most  popular  man 
in  the  kingdom.  For  intriguing  to  seat  himself  upon  the 
throne  he  was  arrested  in  1682.  He  acknowledged  himself 
guilty  of  participation  in  the  famous  Rye  House  plot  to  seize 
the  King’s  person  and  subvert  his  government,  meanly  involv¬ 
ing  many  of  his  friends  and  supporters.  Pardoned  by  Charles 
on  his  solemn  promise  to  reform  and  loyally  support  the  Duke 
of  York,  should  he  ever  ascend  the  throne,  Monmouth  fled  to 
Antwerp.  Soon  after  the  death  of  his  father  in  1685,  he 
landed  at  Lynn-Regis  and  issued  a  manifesto  declaring  James 
a  usurper  and  Papist,  and  asserting  his  own  legitimate 
right  to  the  throne.  He  raised  an  army  and  gave  battle  to 
the  King,  but  was  ignominiously  defeated,  and  proved  himself 
a  coward  by  leading  the  general  flight.  He  was  convicted  of 
high  treason  and  executed  on  Tower  Hill,  the  executioner 
performing  his  task  so  unskilfully  that  five  blows  were  struck 
before  his  head  fell. 

This  was  the  opportunity  of  the  revengeful  James.  Many 
of  the  adherents  of  Monmouth  had  been  in  strong  sympathy 
with  the  plot  of  Titus  Oates,  and  retribution  in  kind  seems  to 
have  been  deliberately  planned.  In  the  meantime,  a  brutal 
soldiery,  under  the  leadership  of  Col.  Percy  Kirke,  a  most 
debased  and  inhuman  officer,  were  wreaking  direful  vengeance 
in  the  west  of  England,  where  the  insurrection  had  assumed 
the  most  formidable  proportions.  Hundreds,  probably  thou¬ 
sands,  were  thus  inhumanly  put  to  death,  without  the  slight¬ 
est  form  of  trial.  The  slaughter  over — and,  in  the  nature  of 
things,  it  could  not  be  long  sustained — the  “forms  of  law” 
were  appealed  to,  and  that  in  a  way  that  wrought  direful 
vengeance  on  the  unhappy  accused,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
covered  the  judiciary  of  England  with  dark  and  lasting  dis¬ 
grace. 

In  one  respect  Kirke  had  displeased  James;  he  had  mur¬ 
dered  large  numbers  of  poor  and  humble  people,  but  had 
generally  spared  the  rich  and  powerful.  Hundreds  of  the 
last-named  class  had,  however,  been  arrested,  and  the  jails  of 
Somersetshire  and  Dorsetshire  were  literally  packed  with 
prisoners.  These  were  the  people  whom  James  most  desired 


184 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


to  reach.  He  made  no  immediate  movement,  but  allowed 
several  weeks  to  pass  before  starting  in  motion  the  wheels  of 
the  legal  machinery  that  was  to  crush  those  ardent  Protestants 
who  had  espoused  the  cause  of  his  nephew,  Monmouth. 

Early  in  September,  1685,  several  carriages,  strongly 
escorted  with  military,  set  out  from  London  for  the  “West 
Country.’’  They  contained,  beside  the  infamous  Jeffreys, 
four  other  judges,  the  most  cruel  and  unscrupulous  that  could 
be  mustered,  though  saints  in  comparison  with  the  chief- 
justice.  They  were  to  act  under  his  direction,  and  great 
results  were  confidently  expected  by  the  revengeful  King  and 
his  party.  We  shall  soon  see  that  the  confidence  of  the 
monarch  had  not  been  misplaced.  Yet,  depraved  as  James 
knew  his  tool  to  be,  he  seems  to  have  been  doubtful  whether 
he  would  be  severe  and  relentless  enough.  A  few  days  after 
the  five  licensed  murderers  had  quitted  London  on  this 
sanguinary  errand,  Francis  North,  Lord  Guilford,  Keeper  of 
the  Great  Seal,  died  of  mortification  and  disgust  caused  by  the 
treatment  he  had  received  at  the  hands  of  the  King,  and  par¬ 
ticularly  at  the  disgrace  that  his  high  office  was  falling  into 
through  the  outrageous  acts  of  the  chief-justice.  James  at 
once  dispatched  a  courier  bearing  a  letter  to  Jeffreys, 
announcing  Lord  Guilford’s  demise,  and  assuring  him  that,  if 
he  dispatched  his  business  to  the  exact  taste  of  the  King,  he 
might  expect  the  Great  Seal  as  his  reward.  It  is  doubtful 

whether  a  man  with  the  homicidal  impulse  developed  as  it  was 

« 

in  Jeffreys  needed  any  stimulus  to  do  the  work  that  had  been 
assigned  him.  The  fact  is  noted  as  showing  that  the  element 
of  cupidity  probably  entered  into  the  awful  judicial  murders 
which  speedily  followed. 

It  was  at  Winchester,  in  Hampshire,  that  Jeffreys  opened 
his  commission  and  made  ready  to  set  up  his  judicial  shambles. 
This  shire  had  witnessed  none  of  the  bloody  scenes  of  the 
rebellion,  but  many  refugees  had  fled  thither  and  been 
arrested  and  thrown  into  jails.  It  seems  fitting  to  the  char¬ 
acter  of  the  chief- justice  and  the  detestable  nature  of  his 
errand,  that  the  first  victim  of  his  mingled  cruelty,  avarice, 
desire  for  notoriety  and  homicidal  impulse,  should  have  been 


JUDICIAL  MURDER 


l8S 

a  woman  —  charitable,  hospitable,  virtuous,  universally 
respected  and  absolutely  guiltless  of  wrong-doing,  much  less 
of  the  crime  of  treason.  This  woman  was  Alice  Lisle,  the 
aged  widow  of  John  Lisle,  who  had  sat  in  the  Long  Parliament 
and  in  the  High  Court  of  Justice,  for  which  reason  she  was 
known  as  “Lady  Alice. “  This  excellent  woman  had  many 
friends  among  the  Tories.  She  had  deeply  regretted  the 
course  of  her  husband,  had  shed  tears  over  the  execution  of 
Charles  I.,  and  often  relieved  distressed  cavaliers.  Two 
fugitives,  John  Hickes,  a  nonconformist  divine,  and  Richard 
Nelthorpe,  a  lawyer,  applied  to  her  for  relief.  She  gave  them 
food  and  showed  them  where  they  might  sleep.  In  this  she 
seems  to  have  been  actuated  only  by  the  common,  but  none 
the  less  highly  commendable,  impulse  of  hospitality.  In  the 
morning  her  house  was  surrounded  by  soldiers.  They  found 
Hickes  in  the  malt-house,  and  dragged  Nelthorpe  from  the 
chimney.  For  this  offense  she  was  placed  on  trial  for  her  life. 

If  it  could  have  been  proven  that  she  knew  the  men  she  had 
succored  to  have  committed  a  capital  crime  she  would  have 
been  technically  guilty  as  an  accessory  after  the  fact.  But 
this  was  not  established.  She  admitted  that  she  knew  Hickes 
was  in  trouble  of  some  sort,  but  swore  that  she  had  enter¬ 
tained  no  idea  that  he  had,  in  any  way,  participated  in  the 
rebellion.  She  only  knew  him  as  a  clergyman  and  a  devout 
Christian,  and  supposed  he  was  wanted  for  having  preached  in 
the  fields.  Nelthorpe  she  did  not  know,  and  had  not  even 
inquired  his  name.  In  this  case  she  but  followed  the  Scottish 
custom,  where  the  name  of  an  unknown  guest  was  not  asked, 
lest  he  should  prove  an  hereditary  foe  and  necessitate  his 
being  sent  away  hungry. 

“  Such  was  the  reverence  for  a  guest, 

That  fellest  foe  might  join  the  feast 
And  from  his  deadliest  foeman’s  door 
Unquestioned  turn  the  banquet  o’er.” 

When  it  is  remembered  that  no  acts  of  violence  had 
occurred  in  the  section  where  Lady  Alice  resided,  and  that  the 
names  of  the  persons  found  upon  her  premises  were  in  no 
proclamation,  it  seems  entirely  probable  that  she  told  the 


1 


186  MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 

exact  truth,  and  was  absolutely  innocent.  In  any  event,  her 
offense  was  of  a  slight,  we  might  almost  say,  amiable,  character. 
The  strong  point  made  in  her  defense  was  that,  inasmuch  as 
neither  Nelthorpe  nor  Hickes  had  been  brought  to  trial,  she 
could  not  legally  be  put  in  jeopardy  of  her  life  as  an  accessory 
to  their  crimes.  This  should  have  led  to  her  immediate  dis¬ 
missal.  To  Jeffreys  this  point  was  a  mere  bagatelle,  and  was 
overruled,  with  curses. 

So  strong  was  the  sympathy  for  the  unfortunate- lady,  that 
even  the  Tory  witnesses  hesitated  to  perjure  themselves  by 
testifying  against  her.  The  jury  was  made  up  of  reputable 
men,  who,  though  devoted  to  the  cause  of  James,  were  men  of 
honor,  and  shrank  from  their  odious  task.  But  for  Jeffreys, 
she  would  have  been  instantly  acquitted.  He  stormed,  raved 
and  blasphemed.  “But  I  will  tell  you,”  he  shouted,  “there  is 
not  one  of  those  lying,  snivelling,  canting  Presbyterians  but, 
one  way  or  another,  had  a  hand  in  the  rebellion.  Presbytery 
has  all  manner  of  villainy  in  it.  Show  me  a  Presbyterian,  and 
I’ll  show  you  a  lying  knave.”  For  a  full  hour  he  continued 
his  violent  and  blasphemous  diatribe.  He  reminded  the  jury 
that  the  prisoner’s  husband  had  borne  a  part  in  the  execution 
of  Charles  I.,  a  fact  that  had  not  been  proven  and  would  have 
been  irrelevant  if  it  had  been  shown.  The  jury  were  out  a 
long  time,  and  Jeffreys  sent  for  them  and  heaped  torrents  of 
abuse  upon  their  heads  for  not  agreeing  to  a  verdict  of  guilty. 
Doubtless  the  twelve  men  saw  arrest  and  prosecution  before 
them  if  they  refused  to  comply.  With  most  of  us,  fear  is  a 
stronger  incentive  to  action  than  a  sense  of  honor.  At  last 
they  yielded,  and  reluctantly  returned  a  verdict  of  guilty. 

That  the  chief -justice  meant  to  earn  the  Great  Seal  and  at 
the  same  time  gratify  his  depraved  and  malevolent  heart,  is 
evident  from  the  sentence  which  he  gleefully  and  profanely 
pronounced  the  following  morning.  He  directed  that  Alice 
Lisle  should  be  burned  alive  at  the  stake  that  very  afternoon. 
Like  crime,  cruelty  must  be  educated  and  developed.  Jeffreys 
himself  was  a  past-master  in  the  art,  and  not  only  understood, 
but  fairly  reveled  in  its  refinements;  but  the  Tories  of 
Hampshire  had  yet  much  to  learn  in  that  direction,  and  the 


JUDICIAL  MURDER 


187 


dreadful  sentence  aroused  their  sleeping  humanity  and  pro¬ 
voked  their  indignation.  The  clergy  of  Winchester  Cathedral 
remonstrated  vigorously,  and  Jeffreys,  who,  though  bent  on 
murder  in  its  most  horrible  form,  was  not  entirely  destitute  of 
prudence,  reluctantly  consented  to  postpone  the  execution  for 
five  days.  This  brief  respite  was  employed  to  urge  the  royal 
clemency.  Many  prominent  people  interested  themselves  in 
her  behalf;  among  these,  Clarendon,  theKing’s  brother-in-law, 
pleaded  her  cause.  But  James  was  bent  on  “feeding  fat” 
his  deep-seated  revenge.  The  chief-justice  was  doing  his 
duty,  and  he  proposed  to  support  him.  The  best  that  he  could 
be  induced  to  do  was  to  commute  her  sentence  from  burning 
to  death  by  the  axe.  She  was  executed  in  the  market-place  of 
Winchester,  and  met  her  fate  with  lofty  courage. 

The  Bloody  Assizes  were  now  fairly  inaugurated.  Jeffreys 
had  set  a  pattern  for  his  associates  in  the  business,  which  they 
were  not  slow  in  imitating.  The  harvest  was  ready  and, 
although  the  reapers  were  few,  they  were  eager  for  the  labor 
and  understood  the  art  of  dispatching  business  with  the  least 
possible  loss  of  time.  The  chief-justice  tried  no  more  prison¬ 
ers  in  Hampshire,  but,  after  witnessing,  with  every  indication 
of  intense  satisfaction,  the  execution  of  his  first  victim,  passed 
on  to  Dorchester,  the  principal  town  of  the  county  in  which 
Monmouth  had  landed.  As  if  to  foreshadow  the  awful 
slaughter  he  had  planned,  Jeffreys  ordered  the  court-room  to 
be  hung  with  scarlet.  The  people  noted  this,  and  an  awed 
hush,  broken  only  with  hoarse  whispers,  fell  upon  the  town. 
More  than  three  hundred  cases  of  treason  were  on  the  trial 
docket.  Such  an  array  of  prisoners  would  have  dismayed  an 
ordinary  scoundrel,  but  it  produced  no  other  effect  upon  the 
chief-justice  than  to  start  his  inventive  wits  into  action.  His 
plan  was  speedily  matured.  He  gave  it  out  that  the  only  chance 
of  securing  clemency  was  for  the  accused  to  plead  guilty  and 
throw  themselves  upon  the  mercy  of  the  court.  Over  two 
hundred  and  fifty  caught  at  the  bait  and  received  the  kind  of 
mercy  that  a  cat  bestows  upon  a  captive  mouse.  Twenty-nine 
persons  who  put  themselves  upon  the  country — i.  e.,  elected  to 
stand  trial — were  convicted  and  executed  without  delay.  Of 


i88 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


the  three  hundred  prisoners,  two  hundred  and  ninety-two 
received  sentence  of  death.  The  whole  number  hanged  in 
Dorsetshire  reached  the  respectable  total  of  seventy-four. 

After  a  brief  stay  in  Exeter,  the  leading  town  of  Devon¬ 
shire,  where  the  rebellion  had  gained  little  foothold,  but  where 
he  secured  a  few  victims,  the  avenging  judge,  like  a  second 
“Scourge  of  God,”  passed  on  into  Somersetshire.  Here  he 
was  in  his  proper  element,  and  literally  gloated  over  the 
bloody  harvest  he  was  to  reap.  Somersetshire  had  been  the 
hotbed  of  the  rebellion,  and  it  was  here  that  James  had 
directed  the  vengeance  to  fall  heaviest.  In  the  whole  history 
of  fallen  man,  from  murderous  Cain  down  to  our  own  time,  no 
human  being  has  probably  ever  lived  who  so  nearly  typified 
the  Arch  Fiend  exulting  over  a  lost  soul,  as  did  George 
Jeffre3^s  upon  this  occasion.  The  homicidal  impulse  seems  to 
have  gained  absolute  control  over  him. 

“The  chief-justice  was  all  himself,”  wrote  Lord  Macaulay. 
“His  spirits  rose  higher  and  higher  as  the  work  went  on.  He 
laughed,  shouted,  joked,  and  swore  in  such  a  way  that  many 
thought  him  drunk,  from  morning  to  night.  But  in  him  it 
was  not  easy  to  distinguish  the  madness  produced  by  evil  pas¬ 
sions  from  the  madness  produced  from  brandy.  A  prisoner 
affirmed  that  the  witnesses  who  appeared  against  him  were  not 
entitled  to  credit.  One  of  them  he  said  was  a  Papist,  and 
another  a  prostitute.  ‘Thou  impudent  rebel,’  exclaimed  the 
judge,  ‘to  reflect  on  the  king’s  evidence!  I  see  thee,  villain,  I 
see  thee  already  with  the  halter  round  thy  neck!’  Another 
produced  testimony  that  he  was  a  good  Protestant.  ‘Protes¬ 
tant!’  said  Jeffreys;  ‘you  mean  Presbyterian.  I’ll  hold  you  a 
wager  of  it.  I  can  smell  a  Presbyterian  forty  miles.’  One 
wretched  man  moved  the  pity  even  of  the  bitter  Tories.  ‘My 
lord,’  they  said,  ‘this  poor  creature  is  on  the  parish.’  ‘Do  not 
trouble  yourselves,’  said  the  judge,  ‘I  will  ease  the  parish  of 
the  burden.  ’  It  was  not  only  against  the  prisoners  that  his 
fury  broke  forth.  Gentlemen  and  noblemen  of  high  considera¬ 
tion  and  stainless  loyalty,  who  ventured  to  bring  to  his  notice 
any  extenuating  circumstances,  were  almost  sure  to  receive 
what  he  called,  in  the  coarse  dialect  which  he  had  learned  in 


JUDICIAL  MURDER 


189 


the  pot-houses  of  Whitechapel,  a  lick  with  the  rough  side  of 
his  tongue.  Lord  Stawell,  a  Tory  peer,  who  could  not  conceal 
his  horror  at  the  remorseless  manner  in  which  his  poor  neigh¬ 
bors  were  butchered,  was  punished  by  having  a  corpse 
suspended  in  chains  at  his  park  gate.  In  such  spectacles  orig¬ 
inated  many  tales  of  terror,  which  were  long  told  over  the  cider 
by  the  Christmas  fires  of  the  farmers  of  Somersetshire.  Within 
the  last  forty  years,  peasants,  in  some  districts,  well  knew 
the  accursed  spots,  and  passed  them  unwillingly  after  sunset.  ” 

The  accused  were  given  short  shrift  in  Somersetshire. 
Within  a  few  days  two  hundred  and  thirty-three  victims  were 
tried,  convicted,  hanged  and  drawn  and  quartered.  The 
whole  country  was  reduced  to  one  vast  charnel  house ;  not  a 
place  in  all  the  shire  where  two  roads  met,  not  a  market-place 
or  village,  but  what  corpses  swung  in  irons  and  human  heads 
and  quarters  hung  on  lofty  poles,  poisoning  the  air  and  horri¬ 
fying  the  populace.  Fora  generation,  the  people  of  Somerset¬ 
shire  did  not  recover  from  the  awful  shock. 

To  describe  in  anything  like  detail  the  hundreds  of  cases 
disposed  of  by  Jeffreys  and  his  colleagues  upon  this  memorable 
assize,  would  far  transcend  our  available  space;  but  a  few 
special  cases  of  interest  may  be  mentioned  as  illustrating  the 
depravity  of  the  wretch. 

At  the  battle  of  Sedgemoor  a  religious  zealot  named  Abra¬ 
ham  Holmes  had  been  taken  prisoner.  He  refused  to 
acknowledge  the  authority  of  James,  affirming  that  he  would 
own  no  king  but  King  Jesus.  The  execution  of  this  man 
showed  him  to  be  possessed  of  high  faith  and  indomitable 
courage.  Indeed,  the  latter  had  been  made  manifest  upon 
the  battle-field.  His  arm  had  been  fearfully  mangled,  and, 
there  being  no  surgeon  at  hand,  he  proceeded  to  amputate  it 
himself.  Carried  up  to  London,  he  was  examined  by  the 
King  himself.  “I  am  an  aged  man,”  he  said  to  James,  “and 
what  remains  to  me  of  life  is  not  worth  a  falsehood  or  a  base¬ 
ness.  I  have  always  been  a  republican,  and  I  am  so  still.” 
The  King  manifested  no  mercy,  but  sent  him  back  to  the 
West,  where  Jeffreys  speedily  condemned  him.  The  horses 
that  were  to  draw  Holmes  to  the  place  of  execution  balked 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


190 

and  refused  to  be  driven  forward.  “Stop,  gentlemen,”  cried 
the  condemned  man,  who  doubted  not  that  an  angel  with  a 
flaming  sword,  invisible  to  human  eyes,  stood  in  the  way,  “let 
me  go  on  foot.  There  is  more  in  this  than  you  think. 
Remember  how  the  ass  saw  him  whom  the  prophet  could  not 
see.”  He  mounted  the  ladder  leading  to  the  gallows  awk¬ 
wardly,  and  offered  this  apology:  “You  see,  I  have  but  one 
arm.”  Holmes  may  have  been  a  fanatic,  but  he  was  a  brave 
man,  and  died  manfully  in  the  cause  of  his  religion.  Readers 
of  Conan  Doyle’s  “Micah  Clarke”  will  recognize  him  in  one  of 
the  characters  of  that  entertaining  novel. 

Something  of  romance  touched  the  case  of  Christopher 
Battiscombe,  a  young  gentleman  of  family,  fortune  and  refine¬ 
ment,  who  was  condemned  by  the  chief-justice  at  Dorchester. 
It  appears  that  he  was  affianced  to  a  most  worthy  young  lady, 
a  sister  of  the  sheriff.  She  appealed  to  Jeffreys  for  clemency 
for  her  lover,  but  the  beast  drove  her  from  him  with  a  brutal 
and  indecent  jest.  Young  Battiscombe  met  death  with  a 
most  supreme  Christian  fortitude. 

The  fate  of  the  brothers  Hewling  excited  widespread 
interest,  and  well-nigh  universal  commiseration.  They  were 
young,  highly  accomplished,  and  moved  in  the  very  best 
society.  One  of  the  leading  merchants  of  London  and  the 
recognized  head  of  the  English  Baptists,  Kiffin  by  name,  was 
their  maternal  grandfather.  Of  the  two  brothers,  William  and 
Benjamin,  the  former  was  first  placed  on  trial.  He  furnished 
a  bright  and  shining  mark  for  Jeffreys,  who  hurled  at  him  his 
most  cruel  shafts  of  sarcasm  and  Whitechapel  wit.  In  passing 
sentence  of  death  he  brutally  remarked:  “You  have  a  grand¬ 
father  who  deserves  to  be  hanged  as  richly  as  you.” 

Although  only  a  lad  of  nineteen,  William  met  his  death 
with  such  meekness  and  fortitude  as  to  melt  the  hearts  of  all 
the  witnesses  of  his  tragic  end.  A  decided  revulsion  of  feel¬ 
ing  manifested  itself,  and  strong  efforts  were  made  to  save  the 
life  of  Benjamin.  The  matter  became  a  topic  of  general 
conversation,  and  it  was  everywhere  agreed  that  one  youthful 
victim  was  surely  a  fair  quota  for  one  family  to  furnish.  To 
the  surprise  of  everybody,  Jeffreys  recommended  leniency. 


JUDICIAL  MURDER 


191 

Lest  the  reader  conclude  that  there  was  in  this  man’s  breast  a 
spark  of  humanity,  and  that  he  was  sometimes  willing-  to 
forego  the  satisfaction  of  his  murderous  instinct,  the  reason  of 
his  pretended  decency  should  be  stated.  A  kinsman  of  the 
chief-justice  entered  an  impassioned  appeal  for  the  stricken 
family.  From  this  kinsman,  who  was  immensely  rich, 
Jeffreys  had  large  expectations,  and  he  yielded  in  deference 
to  that.  Did  cupidity  triumph  over  the  impulse  to  take  human 
life?  it  may  be  asked.  No;  much  as  he  loved  money,  the 
latter  passion  was  the  one  that  ruled  his  infamous  life.  Jeffreys, 
better  than  any  one  in  England,  knew  the  hard,  revengeful 
heart  of  his  royal  master,  and  assumed  little  risk  of  losing  his 
prey  by  playing  for  his  inheritance.  Although  strongly 
pressed,  James  proved  as  cold  and  inflexible  as  marble.  Ben¬ 
jamin  Hewling  was  judicially  murdered,  and  so  dauntless  was 
his  courage,  so  high  his  hopes  of  an  immortal  life,  that  all 
about  the  gallows,  including  some  of  the  hardened  soldiers 
who  guarded  it,  were  moved  to  tears. 

Jeffreys  often  boasted  that  he  was  the  most  loyal  subject  of 
the  realm,  because  he  had  put  to  death  more  traitors  than  all 
of  his  predecessors  put  together,  since  the  Norman  conquest. 
“It  is  certain,’’  says  Lord  Macaulay,  “that  the  number  of 
persons  whom  he  put  to  death  in  one  month,  and  in  one  shire, 
very  much  exceeded  the  number  of  all  the  political  offenders 
who  have  been  put  to  death  in  our  island  since  the  Revolution. 
The  rebellions  of  1715  and  1745  were  of  longer  duration,  of 
wider  extent,  and  of  more  formidable  aspect  than  that  which 
was  put  down  at  Sedgemoor.  It  has  not  been  generally 
thought  that,  either  after  the  rebellion  of  1715,  or  after  the 
rebellion  of  1745,  the  House  of  Hanover  erred  on  the  side  of 
clemency.  Yet  all  the  executions  of  1715  and  1745  added 
together  will  appear  to  have  been  few  indeed  when  compared 
with  those  which  disgraced  the  Bloody  Assizes.  The  number 
of  the  rebels  whom  Jeffreys  hanged  on  this  circuit  was  three 
hundred  and  twenty.’’ 

Macaulay  had  access  to  the  best  authorities  and  may  well 
be  trusted  on  most  statistical  points,  yet  Bishop  Gilbert  Bur¬ 
net,  who  was  a  contemporary  of  Jeffreys,  and  one  of  the  fore- 


192 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


most  men  in  England,  places  the  number  murdered  on  that 
terrible  circuit  at  fully  six  hundred. 

In  addition  to  the  number  put  to  death  by  order  of  the 
chief-justice,  he  transported  eight  hundred  and  forty-one.  It 
may  be  thought  that  these  do  not  fall  within  the  category  of 
judicial  murders.  Such  an  assumption  is  entirely  wrong. 
Without  exaggeration,  it  may  be  said  that  death  upon  the 
gallows  was  preferable  to  such  a  fate.  These  wretched  men 
were  divided  up  into  gangs  and  given  as  slaves  to  court  favor¬ 
ites  to  be  transported  to  some  one  of  the  West  India  Islands, 
where,  amid  awful  privations  and  subject  to  the  most  inhuman 
treatment,  they  were  to  die  lingering,  horrible  deaths. 

Those  who  have  carefully  read  this  brief,  yet,  we  believe, 
entirely  impartial,  account  of  the  famous  Bloody  Assizes,  will 
surely  be  convinced  that  the  world  is  growing  better.  Such 
proceedings  would  not  be  permitted  in  any  civilized  nation  at 
the  present  day.  More  than  that,  such  a  ruler  as  James  could 
not  sit  upon  a  throne  to  raise  to  a  high  judicial  position  a 
second  George  Jeffreys.  Bad  men,  with  murderous  hearts, 
we  still  have  with  us,  but  the  general  sentiment  of  mankind 
has  become  so  far  elevated  that  they  can  no  longer  employ 
forms  of  law  to  gratify  their  revenge  and  general  disposition 
to  destroy  their  fellows. 

Something  of  the  further  history  and  final  ending  of  this 
great  judicial  monstrosity  will  prove  of  interest  and  serve  to 
“point  the  moral”  of  this  most  sanguinary  chapter.  For  some 
time  he  continued  to  serve  his  master,  James,  rendering  many 
unjust  decisions  and  never  missing  an  opportunity  to  send  an 
unhappy  wretch  to  the  scaffold.  He  was  obliged  to  use  the 
utmost  precaution,  however,  to  save  himself  from  assassina¬ 
tion,  particularly  at  the  hands  of  the  people  of  Somersetshire, 
who  regarded  him  with  a  hatred  and  loathing  that  is  abso¬ 
lutely  without  a  parallel  in  the  entire  history  of  England. 
Upon  his  return  from  the  West  he  was  received  by  James  with 
open  arms.  The  Great  Seal  was  placed  in  his  hands  at 
Windsor,  and  the  London  Gazette  solemnly  announced  that  he 
had  been  made  Lord  Chancellor  as  a  reward  for  the  many  and 
eminent  services  he  had  rendered  to  the  Crown.  Numerous 


JEFFREYS  INSPECTING  If  IS  PRESENT. — PAGE  I93 


JUDICIAL  MURDER 


i93 


other  honors  were  showered  upon  him  by  the  King.  He  was 
made  President  of  the  Court  of  High  Commission,  and  Lord 
Lieutenant  of  two  counties.  James  attempted  to  make  him 
Chancellor  of  the  University  of  Oxford,  but,  happily,  an  irrevo¬ 
cable  selection  had  been  made  before  the  royal  mandate  arrived, 
and  the  great  university  was  saved  from  lasting  disgrace. 

Jeffrey’s  end,  while  in  no  sense  a  sufficient  punishment  for 
his  awful  crimes,  shows  that  wickedness  is  often  overtaken 
with  retribution.  In  1688,  the  wicked  James,  no  longer  able 
to  maintain  his  position  as  king,  abdicated  the  throne  and  fled 
to  France.  When  Jeffreys  learned  that  he  had  left  London,  he 
was  seized  with  consternation,  and  resolved  to  secure  safety 
from  the  popular  indignation  by  instant  flight.  He  disguised 
himself  as  a  common  sailor,  and  made  ready  to  quit  the 
country.  A  man  who  had  once  been  brought  before  the  chief- 
justice  and  abused  and  reviled,  saw  him  through  the  window 
of  an  ale-house,  and,  notwithstanding  his  excellent  disguise, 
recognized  his  savage  eye  and  brutal  mouth.  A  mob  set  upon 
him,  from  which  he  was  rescued  with  difficulty,  and,  at  his 
own  request,  sent  to  the  Tower.  During  the  drive,  his  life 
was  constantly  menaced,  and  he  begged  piteously  for  protec¬ 
tion.  The  fury  of  the  populace  knew  no  bounds;  all  classes, 
sexes  and  conditions  united  in  demanding  his  life.  He  had 
long  been  addicted  to  strong  drink,  and  after  his  imprison¬ 
ment  consumed  enormous  quantities  of  brandy.  This  aggra¬ 
vated  an  old  internal  complaint,  and  led  to  his  speedy  death. 
Shortly  before  the  end  came  he  was  aroused  from  the  stupor 
into  which  he  was  almost  constantly  plunged,  by  a  present  of 
what  appeared  to  be  a  barrel  of  Colchester  oysters,  his  favorite 
dainty.  With  shaking  hands,  he  congratulated  himself  that 
he  still  had  one  friend  remaining.  He  hastened  to  open 
the  barrel,  and  found,  among  a  lot  of  oyster  shells,  a  rope  with 
a  well-tied  hangman’s  noose.  He  died  a  most  miserable  death 
on  the  eighteenth  of  April,  1689,  in  his  forty-first  year.  His 
emaciated  corpse  was  placed  beside  that  of  Monmouth  in  the 
chapel  of  the  Tower,  and  the  curtain  was  rung  down  upon  one 
of  the  bloodiest  dramas  ever  enacted  upon  the  stage  of  English 
history. 


CHAPTER  XII 


ASSASSINATION 

Of  the  manifold  forms  of  murder,  none  is  more  detestable 
than  that  denominated  assassination.  To  take  the  life  of  a 
human  being  as  the  result  of  a  quarrel,  or  upon  any  occasion 
where  the  party  assailed  is  conscious  of  the  danger  that  con¬ 
fronts  him,  and  is  able  to  make  some  kind  of  defense,  is  bad 
enough,  but  it  appears  a  minor  offense  when  contrasted  with 
shooting  from  ambush,  stabbing  in  the  back,  murderously 
assaulting  one  wrapped  in  slumber  or  mixing  poison  with  food 
offered  in  the  sacred  name  of  hospitality.  A.  large  proportion 
of  homicides  are,  strictly  speaking,  assassinations,  but  the 
instances  presented  in  the  present,  and  ensuing  chapters,  will 
be  restricted  to  those  where  the  victims  have  been  persons  of 
distinction,  as  kings  and  other  rulers;  where  the  methods 
employed  were  of  an  unusual  character,  or  where  bodies  of 
men  have  banded  themselves  for  the  purpose  of  perpetuating 
secret  murder,  as  the  Assassins,  the  Stranglers,  and  the 
Mafia. 

Assassination  seems  to  be  almost  as  old  as  the  human  race, 
and  many  pages  of  the  Old  Testament  Scriptures  are  darkened 
with  instances  of  secret  murder,  some  of  them  of  a  most 
atrocious  character.  Of  all  the  homicides  of  Bible  times,  none 
seems  to  have  had  a  greater  predisposition  to  take  human  life 
than  Joab,  the  chief  captain  of  David.  Fierce  and  unmerciful 
in  battle,  he  was  hardly  less  so  in  times  of  peace,  and  more 
than  once  sorely  grieved  the  heart  of  his  royal  master  by 
yielding  to  the  promptings  of  revenge.  The  assassination  of 
Abner,  who  had  been  the  captain  of  Saul’s  host,  by  Joab,  can 
hardly  be  surpassed  for  malice  and  treachery. 

Saul  had  been  several  years  dead,  and  David  was  ruling 

194 


ASSASSINATION 


*95 


over  Israel,  but  considerable  feeling  seems  to  have  existed 
against  those  who  had  supported  Saul  in  the  struggle  for  the 
throne.  Abner  and  some  of  his  friends  had  met  Joab, 
attended  with  a  number  of  personal  followers,  beside  the 
pool  of  Gibeon.  At  Abner’s  suggestion,  which  was  readily 
acquiesced  in  by  Joab,  twelve  young  men  of  each  faction  arose 
to  play  before  the  company.  The  twelve  followers  of  Joab,  as 
seemingly  prearranged,  each  seized  one  of  the  other  party  by 
the  head  and  dispatched  him  by  thrusting  his  sword  into  the 
side  of  the  unsuspecting  youth,  who,  in  a  spirit  of  amity  and 
friendship,  had  placed  himself  in  his  power.  As  a  matter  of 
course,  this  led  to  a  general  affray,  in  which  Abner  and  his 
remaining  adherents  were  worsted  and  put  to  flight.  Abner 
was  pursued  by  Asahel,  a  brother  of  Joab,  who  “was  as  light 
of  foot  as  a  wild  roe.”  Looking  back,  Abner  repeatedly 
warned  his  pursuer  to  turn  either  to  the  right  or  left,  but 
Asahel  kept  on  in  the  race.  At  length  Abner  shouted  to  him : 
“Wherefore  should  I  smite  thee  to  the  ground?  how,  then, 
should  I  hold  up  my  head  to  Joab  thy  brother?”  Asahel  still 
pursuing,  Abner,  to  defend  his  own  life,  halted  suddenly,  and 
“with  the  hinder  part  of  the  spear,  smote  him  under  the  fifth 
rib,  that  the  spear  came  out  behind  him;  and  he  fell  down 
there  and  died  in  the  same  place.” 

It  is  not  strange  that  one  of  Joab’s  fierce  and  revengeful 
temperament  should  be  roused  to  fury  by  this  act,  although  it 
was  the  legitimate  result  of  his  own  treacherous,  wholesale 
assassinations.  Without  the  knowledge  of  King  David,  he 
sent  messengers  after  Abner,  who  induced  him  to  come  into 
Hebron,  the  ancient  capital  of  Palestine.  When  Abner 
arrived,  Joab  told  him  that  he  wished  to  speak  with  him  in 
private,  and  led  him  aside,  in  the  gate,  where,  without  the 
slightest  warning,  he  smote  him  under  the  fifth  rib,  exactly 
where  the  spear  of  Abner  had  struck  his  brother,  Asahel,  and 
he  instantly  died.  David  was  sorely  grieved  at  this  act  of 
treachery;  he  commanded  Joab  and  all  the  people  to  wear 
sackcloth,  and  personally  followed  the  body  of  the  murdered 
man  to  the  grave. 

Joab  was  a  great  captain  in  times  of  war,  and  upon  no 


196 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


other  explanation  can  we  account  for  the  close  relations  that 
he  long  sustained  to  King  David.  And  yet  he  brought  down 
the  gray  hairs  of  the  old  king  in  sorrow  to  the  grave,  for  he 
never  recovered  from  the  death  of  his  best-beloved  son, 
Absalom,  who  fell  a  victim  to  Joab’s  impulse  to  take  human 
life.  The  incident  is  too  well  remembered  to  require  repeti¬ 
tion.  The  literature  of  the  world  hardly  presents  a  spectacle 
of  grief  at  once  as  deep  and  as  lofty  as  that  of  the  Hebrew 
king  over  the  untimely  death  of  his  well-beloved  son. 

Whether  murder  is  ever  justifiable,  may  well  be  doubted, 
yet  we  can  hardly  find  it  in  our  hearts  to  condemn  or  even 
strongly  reproach  the  lovely  Judith,  who,  at  a  sacrifice,  which 
only  a  true  woman  can  appreciate,  invaded  the  camp  and  took 
the  life  of  the  wicked  Holofernes.  Holofernes  was  the  general 
commanding  the  Assyrian  army,  which  had  been  sent  against 
Israel.  This  army  had  invaded  Judea  and  besieged  Bethulia. 
With  their  supply  of  water  cut  off  and  with  little  food  at  their 
command,  the  Israelites  had  small  chance  for  escape;  but 
delivery  was  at  hand,  in  the  person  of  a  young  and  beautiful 
woman,  Judith,  the  widow  of  Manasses.  She  realised  that 
the  welfare,  the  lives  even,  of  her  people  depended  upon 
immediate  action;  and,  at  the  same  time,  knew  that  the  army 
was  entirely  unable  to  successfully  oppose  the  foreign  invader. 
Realizing  the  desperate  straits  to  which  her  people  were 
reduced,  she  resolved  upon  a  bold  exploit,  coupled  with 
dangers  and  encompassed  with  most  serious  embarrassments. 
Accompanied  only  by  a  trusty  maid,  she  sallied  forth  from  the 
city  and  sought  the  camp  of  the  Assyrian  army.  Here,  she 
was  at  once  presented  to  Holofernes,  and  passed  some  days  in 
his  company,  always  accompanied  by  her  maid,  and  maintain¬ 
ing  the  strictest  and  most  religious  decorum.  As  might  well 
have  been  expected,  the  mighty  Assyrian  captain  fell  violently 
in  love  with  the  youthful  Jewish  widow.  At  length  her  time 
arrived;  Holofernes  became  drunk  and  stupid  from  the 
immoderate  use  of  wine.  As  he  slept,  she  approached  his 
bed,  took  down  his  falchion,  seized  hold  of  the  hair  of  his  head 
and  cried:  “Strengthen  me,  O  Lord,  God  of  Israel,  this 
day!”  Then  she  struck  with  all  her  might,  and  with  two 


ASSASSINATION 


197 


blows  cut  off  the  head  of  the  wicked  monster.  Placing  the 
head  in  a  bag,  in  which  they  had  brought  their  supply  of  food, 
the  two  women  repaired  to  the  city.  Consternation  seized 
upon  the  forces  of  the  Assyrians,  and  they  were  easily  put  to 
flight  by  the  Israelites,  rendered  courageous  by  the  bold  and 
self-sacrificing  act  of  a  woman. 

To  write  the  history  of  assassination  would  be  to  outline  the 
history  of  mankind ;  not  that  secret  murder  has  been  the  prin¬ 
cipal  business  of  the  race,  but  rather,  that  in  early  days  the 
fall  of  a  king  or  prince  essentially  changed  the  present  welfare 
and  future  prospects  of  their  people.  Many  kings  and 
potentates  in  the  Oriental  countries  fell  at  the  hands  of 
assassins ;  poison  being  the  means  most  commonly  employed. 
A  large  number  of  the  Emperors  of  Rome  were  thus  removed 
from  the  scenes  of  their  crimes,  while  not  a  few  truly  good 
rulers  have  been  assassinated.  Julius  Caesar  fell  beneath  the 
daggers  of  his  one-time  friends  and  supporters,  at  the  foot  of 
Pompey’s  statue.  After  that  time,  the  Emperors  felt  all  the 
anxiety  that  disturbs  our  modern  czars,  and  guarded  by  every 
means  in  their  power,  against  the  knife  and  poisoned  cup  of 
the  assassin,  but  too  often  in  vain;  the  ambition  of  rivals, 
who  were  able  to  excite  the  venality  of  the  rabble,  and,  more 
especially,  the  army,  generally  proving  superior  to  all  their 
precautions. 

A  most  inexcusable  and  sacrilegious  assassination  dese¬ 
crated  Canterbury  Cathedral,  in  England,  and  made  it  the 
meeting-place  of  no  end  of  devout  pilgrims  who  came  thither 
to  “view  the  holy,  blissful  martyr’s  bones,”  as  old  “Dan” 
Chaucer  expresses  it.  Here,  in  the  reign  of  that  most  ignoble 
and  treacherous  monarch,  Henry  II.,  Thomas  a  Becket, 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  was  brutally  murdered.  In  sev¬ 
eral  respects,  this  prelate  was  a  most  remarkable  personage. 
In  the  first  place,  the  incidents  that  led  to  his  birth  were  of  a 
character  so  romantic  as  to  well  rival  the  most  remarkable 
instance  in  fiction.  Doubt  has  been  thrown  on  this  story, 
which  has  been  the  theme  of  many  poems,  but  it  seems  fairly 
well  authenticated.  It  is  told  with  many  variations.  We 
present  it  here  substantially  as  related  by  the  great  novelist, 


198 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


Charles  Dickens,  in  his  brief,  but  highly  entertaining  and 
instructive  History  of  England. 

“Once  upon  a  time,  a  worthy  merchant  of  London,  named 

Gilbert  a  Becket,  made  a  pilgrimage  to  the  Holy  Land,  and 

was  taken  prisoner  by  a  Saracen  lord.  This  lord,  who 

treated  him  kindly,  and  not  like  a  slave,  had  one  fair 

daughter,  who  fell  in  love  with  the  merchant;  and  who  told 

him  that  she  wanted  to  become  a  Christian  and  was  willing 

to  marry  him  if  they  could  fly  to  a  Christian  country.  The 

merchant  returned  her  love,  until  he  found  an  opportunity  to 

escape,  when  he  did  not  trouble  himself  about  the  Saracen 

lady,  but  escaped  with  his  servant  Richard,  who  had  been 

taken  prisoner  along  with  him,  and  arrived  in  England  and 

forgot  her.  The  Saracen  lady,  who  was  more  loving  than  the 

merchant,  left  her  father’s  house  in  disguise  to  follow  him, 

• 

and  made  her  way,  under  many  hardships,  to  the  seashore. 
The  merchant  had  taught  her  only  two  English  words  (for  I 
suppose  he  must  have  learned  the  Saracen  tongue  himself,  and 
made  love  in  that  language),  of  which  London  was  one,  and 
his  own  name,  Gilbert,  the  other.  She  went  among  the  ships, 
saying,  ‘London!  London!’  over  and  over  again,  until  the 
sailors  understood  that  she  wanted  to  find  an  English  ship 
that  would  carry  her  there ;  so  they  showed  her  such  a  ship, 
and  she  paid  for  her  passage  with  some  of  her  jewels,  and 
sailed  away.  Well!  The  merchant  was  sitting  in  his  count¬ 
ing  house  in  London  one  day,  when  he  heard  a  great  noise  in 
the  street ;  and  presently  Richard  came  running  in  from  the 
warehouse,  with  his  eyes  wide  open  and  his  breath  most  gone, 
saying,  ‘  Master,  master,  here  is  the  Saracen  lady!’  The 
merchant  thought  Richard  was  mad;  but  Richard  said,  ‘No, 
master!  As  I  live,  the  Saracen  lady  is  going  up  and  down  the 
city,  calling  Gilbert!  Gilbert!’  Then  he  took  the  merchant  by 
the  sleeve,  and  pointed  out  the  window;  and  there  they  saw 
her  among  the  gables  and  water-spouts  of  the  dirty  dark 
street,  in  her  foreign  dress,  so  forlorn,  surrounded  by  a 
wondering  crowd,  and  passing  slowly  along,  calling  Gilbert! 
Gilbert!  When  the  merchant  saw  her,  and  thought  of  the 
tenderness  she  had  shown  him  in  his  captivity,  and  of  her 


ASSASSINATION 


199 


constancy,  his  heart  was  moved,  and  he  ran  down  into  the 
street ;  and  she  saw  him  coming,  and  with  a  great  cry  fainted 
in  his  arms.  They  were  married  without  loss  of  time,  and 
Richard  (who  was  an  excellent  man)  danced  with  joy  the 
whole  day  of  the  wedding;  and  they  all  lived  happy  ever 
afterward.  " 

Thomas  a  Becket  was  the  only  son  of  this  London  merchant 
and  his  devoted  Saracen  wife;  and  his  life,  so  romantically 
begun,  was  destined  to  fill  many  pages  of  the  world’s  history. 

As  a  young  man,  Thomas  a  Becket  was  brave,  fighting 
several  battles  in  France ;  courteous,  being  a  general  favorite 
with  the  gay  and  rather  depraved  court,  and,  on  the  whole, 
inclined  to  be  decidedly  dissolute.  He  early  attracted  the 
attention  of  King  Henry,  who  was  himself  a  depraved  char¬ 
acter,  and,  besides,  was  at  war  with  the  clergy,  and  needed 
somebody  to  become  his  tool  in  keeping  them  in  proper  sub¬ 
jection.  The  King  had  made  him  chancellor  and,  as  an 
ambassador  to  France,  he  had  almost  overwhelmed  the  people 
by  the  splendid  state  in  which  he  traveled.  Henry  decided 
that  here  was  a  man  to  make  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  the 
head  of  the  Church  in  England.  The  King  knew  his  chan¬ 
cellor  intimately,  and  never  once  doubted  that  he  was  securing 
the  willing  and  unscrupulous  tool  he  required  to  carry  into 
effect  his  base  and  oppressive  designs.  The  suggestion  raised 
a  storm  in  England,  for  Thomas  a  Becket  had  not  lived  a  life 
calculated  to  make  him  a  capable  and  just  religious  ruler. 
But  the  King  insisted  and  the  appointment  was  made. 

In  doing  this,  as  was  speedily  proven,  Henry  made  the 
greatest  mistake  of  his  life.  The  new  archbishop  had  tasted 
every  worldly  pleasure,  and  longed  for  fame  in  another  direc¬ 
tion;  besides,  it  seems  likely  that  he  secretly  hated  the  King, 
and  was  resolved  upon  revenge.  Almost  his  first  act  was  to 
change  the  whole  course  and  tenor  of  his  life.  He  turned 
away  all  his  brilliant  and  dissolute  followers,  ate  coarse  food, 
drank  bitter  water,  lived  in  a  little  cell,  wore  sackcloth  next 
his  skin,  and  almost  daily  flogged  himself  as  a  penance  for  his 
many  sins.  No  event  ever  transpired  in  England  that  sur¬ 
prised  the  people  more  than  this  radical  reformation  of  a  man 


200 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


who  had  been  accounted  one  of  the  most  rollicking  gallants  in 
all  the  kingdom. 

If  theKing  was  angry  at  this  course,  he  was  enraged  when, 
by  virtue  of  his  high  office,  the  archbishop  forced  the  former  to 
give  up  various  rich  estates  that  the  crown  had  long  wrongfully 
withheld  from  the  clergy,  among  them  the  castle  and  city  of 
Rochester.  From  this  time  forward  a  deadly  war  was  waged 
between  the  clergy  and  the  crown;  the  archbishop  and  the 
king.  Henry  had  his  army,  but  Thomas  a  Becket  possessed 
the  power  of  excommunication,  which  he  used  without  stint. 
In  the  meantime,  both  parties  were  appealing  to  the  Pope,  the 
archbishop  having  been  forced  to  quit  England  and  take  up 
his  residence  in  Flanders.  At  last,  through  the  offices  of  the 
King  of  France,  who  was  greatly  attached  to  the  archbishop,  a 
meeting  between  the  two  enemies  was  arranged  on  French 
soil,  which,  however,  came  to  nothing. 

After  an  absence  of  seven  years  the  archbishop  returned  to 
England,  although  warned  by  his  friends  not  to  do  so.  He 
made  his  way  at  once  to  Canterbury,  being  well  received  by 
the  common  people,  who  most  cordially  hated  theKing. 

Thomas  a  Becket  refused  to  remove  the  excommunications 
that  he  had  so  freely  imposed,  and  the  King  was  driven 
almost  to  madness.  At  length,  one  day,  in  the  presence  of  all 
his  court,  he  cried  out:  “Have  I  no  one  here  who  will  deliver 
me  from  this  man?”  Among  the  knights  present,  four 
decided  to  obtain  Henry’s  favor  by  doing  the  work  his  ques¬ 
tion  implied.  These  men  were  Reginald  Fitzurse,  William 
Tracy,  Hugh  de  Morville  and  Richard  Brito.  Three  of  them 
had  been  in  the  train  of  Thomas  a  Becket  in  the  old  days  of 
his  splendor,  while  chancellor. 

These  men,  bent  on  murder  and  anxious  for  the  reward 
that  seemed  certain  to  follow,  rode  away  secretly  on  horse¬ 
back.  On  the  third  day,  being  December  29,  1170,  they 
arrived  at  Canterbury  and  presented  themselves,  attended  by 
twelve  men  at  arms,  at  the  house  of  the  archbishop.  They 
endeavored  to  persuade  and  to  force  the  archbishop  to  remove 
his  excommunications,  but  were  entirely  unsuccessful.  The 
murderous  knights  and  their  heavily  armed  attendants  finally 


ASSASSINATION 


201 


withdrew  from  the  house,  but  soon  returned  and  began  to  beat 
down  the  great  gate  of  the  palace,  which,  in  the  meantime, 
had  been  closed  and  secured.  His  servants  entreated  the 
prelate  to  take  refuge  in  the  cathedral,  where  they  were  cer¬ 
tain  his  enemies  would  not  dare  to  follow  him.  He  refused  to 
do  this,  but,  hearing  the  voices  of  the  monks  singing  the 
vesper  service,  said  that  it  was  now  his  duty  to  go,  and 
repaired  to  the  sacred  edifice.  So  secure  did  his  servants  con¬ 
sider  him,  that  they  did  not  bar  the  doors  of  the  church, 
deeming  that  no  man  would  dare  to  commit  an  act  of  violence 
there. 

But  the  faithful  servants  little  understood  the  desperate 
character  of  these  men,  who  bore  the  honorable  title  of 
knights.  The  ruffians  at  once  forced  themselves  into  the 
cathedral,  and  presented  themselves  to  the  archbishop,  who 
stood  before  the  altar  of  St.  Benedict.  Here  he  was  put  to 
death  with  sword  thrusts,  Reginald  Fitzurse  striking  the  first 
blow. 

The  murderers  at  once  fled,  and  succeeded  in  getting  out 
of  England ;  the  King  having,  with  his  customary  treachery, 
repudiated  them  and  their  dark  deed.  They  reached  Rome  in 
the  guise  of  penitents,  and  were  sent  on  a  pilgrimage  to 
Palestine — rather  a  light  punishment,  it  would  appear,  for  so 
heavy  a  crime.  As  for  Henry,  he  was  compelled  to  make 
heavy  concessions  to  the  church  to  avoid  the  ban  of  excom¬ 
munication.  Two  years  after  his  death,  Becket  was  canonized 
by  Pope  Alexander  III.  The  body  of  the  murdered  arch¬ 
bishop  had  been  hastily  buried  in  a  crypt  in  the  cathedral, 
but  in  1220  his  bones  were  raised  and  deposited  in  a  splendid 
shrine,  which,  for  three  centuries,  was  the  object  of  one  of  the 
greatest  pilgrimages  of  Christendom.  The  stories  told  by  a 
company  of  twenty-nine  such  pilgrims  make  up  the  still 
famous  Canterbury  Tales  of  Chaucer. 

Among  the  most  distinguished  and  powerful  of  all  the 
ancient  families  of  the  Florentine  republic  must  be  reckoned 
the  Medici.  They  came  into  prominence  early  in  the  thir¬ 
teenth  century,  and  did  not  become  extinct  until  1743.  Cosmo 
de  Medici,  born  in  1389,  reached  the  highest  distinction  of  any 


202 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


of  that  remarkable  family,  and  upon  him  was  bestowed  the 
honorable  title  of  “Father  of  his  Country.”  But,  while  some 
of  the  De  Medicis  were  truly  great,  more  of  them  were  abso¬ 
lutely  debased.  They  carried  on  intrigues,  political  and 
otherwise,  almost  without  number,  and,  justly  or  unjustly,  are 
reckoned  among  the  greatest  poisoners  of  the  world. 

This  famous  family  is  mentioned  here  to  introduce  to  the 
reader  Catherine  de  Medici,  at  whose  instance  Admiral 
Coligny  was  assassinated  as  the  signal  for  the  beginning  of  the 
fearful  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew’s  day,  an  occurrence 
without  parallel  in  the  criminal  annals  of  modern  times.  Few 
of  her  sex  have  exercised  the  powers  that  fell  to  the  lot  of  this 
woman  through  a  long  life,  and  probably  none  ever  used 
authority  in  a  worse  manner.  She  seems  to  have  been  almost 
entirely  under  the  control  of  a  horrid  impulse  to  take  life,  for 
upon  no  other  reasonable  hypothesis  can  her  crimes  be 
accounted  for.  Her  murders  have  been  ascribed  to  religious 
fanaticism ;  but  this  is  clearly  a  mistake,  for  she  cared  abso¬ 
lutely  nothing  for  religion,  and  systematically  violated  its 
every  precept  and  practice.  She  was  too  depraved  and 
monstrous  to  have  been  susceptible  to  the  emotion  of  love, 
and  hence  jealousy  can  hardly  be  charged  with  her  base 
designs.  All  her  affections  were  centered  in  herself,  and 
cruelty  appears  to  have  been  the  one  ruling  passion  of  her  life. 

Catherine  was  the  granddaughter  of  Pietro  de  Medici,  a 
most  treacherous  and  depraved  man,  possessed  of  neither 
honor  nor  prudence.  In  1533  she  married  Henry,  the  son  of 
Francis  I.  of  France,  who  succeeded  that  monarch  as  Henry 
II.  in  1547.  She  appears  to  have  cordially  hated  the  French 
people,  and  to  have  desired  to  trample  them  under  her  feet. 
During  the  latter  years  of  the  life  of  Francis  I.,  his  corrupt 
court  was  dominated  by  the  Duchess  de  Estampes,  while 
Catherine  was  compelled  to  share  the  affection  of  her  husband 
with  a  famous  beauty  known  as  Diana  de  Poitiers.  It  is  not 
likely  that  Catherine  cared  for  Henry,  but,  none  the  less,  she 
hated  the  woman  who  largely  usurped  her  place,  as  also  she 
detested  the  mistress  of  her  royal  father-in-law.  Such  was 
her  guile  and  duplicity,  however,  that  she  openly  courted  the 


ASSASSINATION 


203 


favor  of  each  of  these  infamous  women.  Henry  died  in  1559, 
his  death  resulting  from  a  wound  received  in  a  friendly  tourna¬ 
ment,  and  was  succeeded  by  his  son,  Francis  II.  This  mon¬ 
arch  was  crowned  when  Catherine  was  about  forty  years  of 
age,  and,  while  not  imbecile,  was  weak,  physically,  mentally 
and  morally.  His  mother  had  expected  to  absolutely  control 
the  government,  but,  unfortunately  for  her  base  schemes,  he 
had  married  a  very  remarkable  woman,  Mary  Queen  of  Scots, 
and  was  completely  under  the  influence  of  his  young,  beautiful 
and  highly  accomplished  wife.  As  is  well  known  to  the 
reader,  Mary  was  an  intense  Catholic.  She  at  once  took  sides 
against  the  Huguenots — the  reformers  of  France. 

Here  was  Catherine’s  opportunity,  and  she  lost  no  time  in 
taking  advantage  of  it.  Although  she  thoroughly  detested  the 
Protestants,  she  openly  espoused  their  cause.  In  this  she 
thought  she  saw  a  way  to  return  herself  to  the  power  she  had 
lost  through  her  son’s  marriage  with  the  Scotch  Queen.  It 
seems  clear  that  at  this  time  she  was  plotting  for  the  imprison¬ 
ment  of  Francis  II.,  and  the  death  of  other  members  of  the 
royal  family  who  stood  in  the  path  of  her  infamous  ambition. 
She  proposed  that  the  King  be  retired  from  the  active  exercise 
of  the  functions  of  his  high  office,  and  a  Huguenot  Council  of 
Regency  be  appointed,  of  which  she  was  to  be  the  head.  To 
this  the  Huguenots  gave  a  ready  assent,  but  the  plot  was  dis¬ 
covered  before  it  was  fully  perfected,  and  several  of  the  lead¬ 
ers  suffered  death.  Having  exhausted  this  expedient  without 
beneficial  results,  Catherine,  with  all  the  natural  hypocrisy  of 
her  nature,  promptly  returned  to  the  Catholic  fold. 

And  now  fortune  seemed  to  favor  this  designing  and 
wicked  woman.  The  young  King  died  in  1560,  after  a  very 
brief  reign,  and  was  succeeded  by  his  brother,  Charles  IX., 
then  but  ten  years  of  age.  As  regent,  Catherine  exercised 
almost  unlimited  power,  which  she  used  to  the  oppression  of 
the  Huguenots  on  all  possible  occasions.  During  the  years 
that  preceded  the  majority  of  the  young  King,  his  mother  had 
succeeded  in  utterly  corrupting  him.  She  had  instilled  into 
his  mind  a  love  of  perfidy  and  cruelty,  and  had  dulled  all  his 
moral  sensibilities  as  completely  as  if  he  had  been  educated  for 


204 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


a  Strangler.  She  pandered  to  his  basest  passions  and 
instincts,  and  taught  him,  above  all,  to  hate  and  despise  the 
Huguenots.  In  the  meantime,  a  regular  warfare  had  been  in 
progress  in  France  between  the  Catholics  and  Huguenots,  and 
each  side  had  well-nigh  exhausted  its  resources.  In  1570  a 
peace  was  concluded  whereby  the  reformers  obtained  the 
privilege  to  freely  exercise  their  religion. 

Catherine  de  Medici  seems,  about  this  time,  to  have  formed 
that  dark  plot  which  has  since  rendered  her  name  infamous, 
and  will  continue  to  do  so,  while  time  lasts  and  assassination  is 
despised.  The  better  to  prepare  for  it,  she  expressed  great 
sympathy  for  the  Huguenots,  and  even  attempted  to  lull  them 
into  a  feeling  of  security  by  marrying  her  daughter  Margaret 
to  the  youthful  Henry  of  Bearn,  afterward  Henry  IV.,  on 
August  18,  1572,  a  week  before  the  dreadful  massacre  which 
was  already  planned,  although  no  day  had  then  been  set  for 
its  occurrence.  Bad  as  the  young  King  was,  he  manifested 
some  reluctance  in  giving  his  royal  sanction  to  the  wholesale 
murder.  It  is  more  than  likely  that  this  was  due  to  fear  rather 
than  any  lingering  feeling  of  humanity.  His  mother  finally 
convinced  him  that  the  Huguenots  were  plotting  against  his 
life,  and  that  their  effectual  repression  was  an  absolute 
necessity.  Henry  of  Bearn  was  an  associate  of  Admiral 
Coligny,  and  one  of  the  leaders  of  the  Huguenots.  His  mar¬ 
riage  was  the  means  of  drawing  the  admiral  to  Paris,  where 
his  presence  was  much  desired  by  the  murderous  and  schem¬ 
ing  Catherine.  On  the  2  2d  of  August,  four  days  after  the 
marriage,  Coligny  was  wounded  by  a  shot  fired  from  a  win¬ 
dow.  Hearing  of  this,  the  King  hastened  to  him,  and  swore  to 
revenge  his  injury.  Upon  returning  to  the  palace,  his  mother 
succeeded  in  still  further  poisoning  his  mind  against  the  gray¬ 
haired  old  man.  “By  God’s  death!”  he  exclaimed,  “let  the 
admiral  be  slain,  and  not  him  only,  but  all  the  Huguenots,  till 
not  one  remains  that  can  give  us  trouble!” 

The  Duke  Francis  of  Guise  was  ordered  to  make  ready  for 
the  massacre  which  Catherine  had  decided  should  occur  on 
the  night  of  St.  Bartholomew’s  day,  August  24,  1572.  His 
first  move  was  to  have  a  close  watch  kept  upon  the  city,  to  the 


ASSASSINATION 


205 


end  that  no  Huguenot  be  permitted  to  leave,  on  any  pretext 
whatever.  The  first  victim  of  Catherine’s  murderous  impulse 
was  Admiral  Coligny,  who  was  also  bitterly  hated  by  the 
Duke  of  Guise.  On  the  night  when  the  massacre  began,  a 
detachment  of  soldiers,  under  the  personal  direction  of  the 
revengeful  Guise,  forcibly  entered  his  residence  and  cut  him 
down  with  their  swords.  His  body  was  then  thrown  into  the 
street,  where,  after  the  duke  had  trampled  it  under  his  feet, 
it  was  given  over  to  the  indignities  of  a  howling,  drunken 
mob.  In  the  carnage  that  ensued,  the  King  himself  bore  a 
part.  Standing  before  a  window  in  his  palace  and  urged  on 
by  his  mother,  he  fired  repeatedly  at  those  that  were  fleeing 
past.  The  scene  that  ensued  simply  beggars  description ;  the 
hate  of  a  generation  was  poured  out  upon  that  awful  night. 
A  French  historian  has  attempted  it  in  the  following 
paragraph : 

“Out  on  the  still  night  boomed  the  great  bell,  high  up  in 
the  stone  tower  of  St.  Germain  l’Auxerrois;  and  at  the  signal, 
there  poured  forth  into  the  streets  a  horde  of  fanatic  mur¬ 
derers,  who  executed  the  will  of  the  demon  woman.  The 
houses  of  the  Huguenots  were  broken  into,  and  their  scream¬ 
ing  inmates  dragged  forth  into  the  streets  and  ruthlessly 
butchered.  Others  were  hewn  down  in  their  nightclothes,  as 
they  ran  out  of  their  chambers,  and  their  bodies  were  flung 
from  the  windows  to  the  pavement  below.  Women  and  chil¬ 
dren  were  chopped  to  pieces  in  their  beds,  and  their  white 
sheets  crimsoned  with  their  gore.  The  flaming  torches  in  the 
streets  lighted  up  a  scene  of  pandemonium  miles  on  miles  in 
extent.  All  over  the  city,  the  pavements  were  slippery  with 
blood,  corpses  lay  in  heaps,  with  gashed  necks,  dripping 
sanguinary  tears — with  both  sexes  and  in  all  ages  piled  in 
indiscriminate  slaughter.  The  voice  of  weeping  and  of  wail¬ 
ing,  shrieks  of  anguish  and  groans  of  despair,  of  wrangling 
tiger-like  struggling,  and  shouts  of  ‘Vive  Dieu  et  le  Roi’ — 
Live  God  and  the  King — all  in  one  horrid  babble,  rose  up  to 
the  shuddering  skies,  where  the  stars  looked  down  in  mocking 
serenity.  Flying  frantically,  hither  and  thither,  the  defense¬ 
less  Huguenots  sought  in  vain  for  shelter.  They  were 


206 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


dragged  from  their  hiding-places  with  yells  of  exultation,  and 
pierced  with  gleaming  daggers.  ” 

The  lives  of  many  men  of  eminence  were  preserved  with 
great  difficulty,  the  Prince  of  Conde  and  the  King  of  Navarre 
only  escaping  death  by  going  to  mass  and  appearing  to  con¬ 
form  in  the  regulations  of  the  Catholic  Church.  The  frightful 
carnage  continued  for  several  days,  and  the  streets  of  Paris 
almost  literally  ran  with  Huguenot  blood.  The  massacre  was 
not  confined  to  the  metropolis,  but  quickly  spread  to  nearly 
all  the  other  cities  of  France,  and  was  carried  on  in  the  agri¬ 
cultural  districts  as  well.  This  was  done  by  the  direct  com¬ 
mand  of  the  King,  moved  thereto,  no  doubt,  by  his  infamous 
mother.  In  some  of  the  provinces  the  authorities  were 
ashamed  to  publish  the  orders  that  had  been  transmitted  to 
them,  but  large  numbers  of  fanatics  came  forward  and  pro¬ 
ceeded  to  execute  the  royal  mandate.  The  exact  number  of 
people  murdered  was  never  known,  and  has  been  variously 
stated  at  from  thirty  to  seventy  thousand ;  fifty  thousand  being 
probably  a  conservative  estimate. 

Outside  of  France,  the  fearful  massacre  of  St.  Bartholo¬ 
mew’s  day  excited  feelings  of  mingled  horror  and  disgust. 
The  Queen  of  England  deliberately  turned  her  back  upon  the 
French  ambassador  when,  next  after  the  perpetration  of  the 
wholesale  murder,  he  was  ushered  into  her  presence.  The 
indignation  of  the  Christian  nations  was  not  lost  upon  France, 
and  from  that  time  the  persecution  of  the  Huguenots  began  to 
grow  unpopular  and  die  away,  until,  in  1598,  Henry  IV. 
promulgated  the  Edict  of  Nantes,  which  undertook  to  secure 
religious  liberty  to  all  alike. 

The  fears  that  tormented  the  youthful  King  before  the 
massacre,  and  which  were  played  upon  by  his  mother  to  secure 
his  authority  to  that  detestable  act,  appear  to  have  increased 
after  the  event.  It  is  said  likewise  that  he  was  consumed  by 
a  most  fearful  and  never-ceasing  remorse,  and  that  he  came  to 
absolutely  detest  and  abhor  the  unnatural  mother  who  had 
corrupted  his  youthful  mind  and  morals,  and  whom  he  held 
responsible  for  the  monstrous  crime  he  had  engaged  in.  Be 
that  as  it  may,  and  authorities  differ  on  this  point,  Catherine’s 


ASSASSINATION 


207 


influence  began  to  diminish,  and  she  soon  came  to  have  prac¬ 
tically  nothing  to  do  with  the  affairs  of  the  State.  Such  a 
condition  was  far  from  pleasing  to  the  designing  woman. 
Charles  died  May  30,  1574,  a  moment  most  favorable  for  the 
future  designs  of  his  mother.  It  is  said  that  his  death  was  due 
to  poison,  but  this  point  has  long  been  disputed  and  cannot  be 
said  to  be  well  established.  The  story  is  that  Catherine  pro¬ 
cured  a  book  on  hunting,  a  pastime  to  which  the  King  was 
greatly  inclined,  and  caused  the  leaves  to  be  touched  here  and 
there  with  a  glutinous  substance  which  had  been  impregnated 
with  a  most  deadly  poison.  This  book  was  thrown  in  the 
King’s  way,  and  he  naturally  became  interested  in  its  contents. 
To  separate  and  turn  the  leaves  the  King  would  moisten  his 
fingers  on  his  tongue  and  in  this  way  took  the  poison  into  his 
system.  He  is  said  to  have  died  in  great  agony  and  remorse, 
shedding  blood  at  every  pore. 

Catherine  now  thought  that  the  moment  of  her  absolute 
supremacy  had  arrived.  Her  sons  Francis  and  Charles  were 
both  dead,  while  Henry,  her  youngest  child,  had,  through  her 
intrigues,  been  placed  upon  the  throne  of  Poland,  and  was 
supposed  by  his  mother  to  be  on  that  account  incapacitated 
from  becoming  King  of  France.  In  Henry’s  eyes,  however, 
the  throne  of  France  was  vastly  preferable  to  that  of  Poland — 
besides,  he  was  not  wanted  in  Poland.  Accordingly,  he  aban¬ 
doned  his  Polish  sovereignty,  and  returned  to  Paris,  where  he 
grasped  the  reins  of  government,  and  was  crowned  Henry 
III.  He  was  by  no  means  as  weak,  either  of  body  or  in  mind, 
as  his  brothers,  and  his  mother  was  unable  to  dominate  him  to 
the  same  extent.  She  did,  however,  succeed  in  persuading 
him  that  the  Duke  of  Guise,  who  had  been  prominent  in  the 
massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew,  was  plotting  against  his  life. 
Believing  this,  he  conspired  with  his  mother  for  the  duke’s 
assassination.  The  latter  was  summoned  to  the  palace  at  an 
early  hour  one  morning,  and  as  he  entered  the  royal  apart¬ 
ments,  he  received  a  sword  thrust  through  the  body  from  a 
guardsman  who  had  been  stationed  there  for  that  purpose. 
He  fell  to  the  floor  and  expired,  just  as  the  King  entered  the 
chamber  in  which  the  deed  had  been  committed  in  time  to 


208 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


inflict  upon  the  body  of  the  victim  the  indignity  of  a  kick. 
This  was  in  1588. 

The  long  list  of  evil  acts  of  Catherine  de  Medici  terminated 
only  with  her  death,  which  occurred  shortly  after  the  assassi¬ 
nation  of  the  Duke  of  Guise,  and  the  thoroughly  debauched 
King  was  thrown  upon  his  own  resources,  and  sadly  missed  the 
advice  of  that  wily  politician,  who,  for  more  than  half  a  cen¬ 
tury,  had  exerted  a  mighty  and  most  baneful  influence  upon 
public  affairs,  much  of  the  time  being  practical  ruler  of  the 
kingdom.  But  the  last  important  advice  of  his  mother,  the 
assassination  of  the  Duke  of  Guise,  led  to  most  disastrous 
results.  The  doctors  of  Sorbonne,  a  celebrated  academic 
body  at  Paris,  which  dates  from  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth 
century,  and  which,  down  to  the  French  Revolution,  held  a 
prominent  place  in  all  church  controversies,  declared  that  the 
people  were  relieved  of  the  duty  of  obedience  to  the  King, 
while  the  Leaguers,  who  stood  for  the  maintenance  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  religion  and  had  been  organized  by  the  mur¬ 
dered  Duke  of  Guise,  dissolved  the  parliament. 

Henry  was  distracted  at  the  difficulties  that  surrounded 
him,  and,  learning  that  Guise’s  brother,  the  Duke  of  Mayenne, 
had  been  declared  lieutenant-general  of  the  kingdom,  threw 
himself  under  the  protection  of  Henry  of  Navarre.  Politics 
and  statecraft  make  many  strange  combinations,  and  the  two 
newly  reconciled  kings  were  soon  advancing  upon  Paris  at  the 
head  of  an  army  of  40,000  Huguenots.  Although  Mayenne 
was  a  brave  man  and  ably  defended  the  city,  it  is  likely  that  he 
would  have  been  forced  to  capitulate,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
unexpected  death  of  Henry  III.  On  the  1st  of  August,  1589, 
a  fanatical  young  Dominican  brother,  Jacques  Clement, 
obtained  access  to  the  King  under  pretext  of  having  something 
of  great  importance  to  communicate,  and  killed  him  by 
plunging  a  knife  into  his  body. 

Upon  the  death  of  Henry  III.,  Henry  of  Navarre,  being 
the  nearest  male  descendant  of  the  royal  house  of  France,  was 
made  King  of  France,  as  he  already  was  of  Navarre.  Born  of 
a  Calvinistic  mother,  Henry  was  a  zealous  Protestant, 
although  he  had,  to  save  his  life,  been  compelled  to  conform 


JUDITH  AND  JiER  MAID  DEPARTING  WITH  THE  HEAD  OF  HOEOFERNES. — 1'AGE  I97. 


ASSASSINATION 


2  C  () 

to  the  Catholic  faith.  It  was  this  Henry  who  won  the  splendid 
victory  over  Mayenne  at  Ivry  in  1590,  which  Lord  Macaulay 
has  immortalized  in  verse.  He  had  escaped  from  the  court  of 
Paris,  where  he  was  a  virtual  prisoner,  in  1576,  and  had 
promptly  revoked  his  compulsory  conversion  and  again 
taken  command  of  the  Protestant  army.  To  render  himself 
secure  in  his  succession  to  the  throne  of  France,  in  July,  1593, 
he  again  changed  his  religion  and  recanted  Protestantism  with 
great  pomp  at  St.  Denis’  in  Paris.  Early  in  1610,  the  King 
decided  to  levy  war  upon  Germany,  and  leave  his  second  wife, 
Marie  de  Medici,  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Tuscany,  regent  of 
France  during  his  absence  Marie  was  crowned  with  great 
pomp,  and  the  following  day,  May  14,  1610,  the  King  was 
assassinated.  Owing  to  the  changes  in  his  religion  and  the 
violent  enemies  he  had  made,  Henry  had  long  been  a  mark 
for  assassins,  no  less  than  nineteen  attempts  having  been  made 
upon  his  life. 

On  the  day  of  his  death,  Henry  attended  mass  at  a  church 
in  the  Rue  St.  Honore.  At  this  time  an  assassin,  one 
Francois  Ravaillac,  was  seeking  his  life,  but  deferred  the 
execution  of  his  design  owing  to  the  presence  of  the  Duke  of 
Vendome.  About  four  o’clock  in  the  afternoon,  accompanied 
by  the  Marquis  de  la  Force,  Mirabeau,  and  Mesdames  de 
Ravarden,  Roquelaure  and  de  Lian court,  the  King  entered  his 
carriage.  Ravaillac  followed  the  royal  carriage  with  the  inten¬ 
tion  of  stabbing  Henry  as  the  latter  passed  through  the  gates 
into  the  palace  yard.  The  King,  however,  altered  his  route, 
and  directed  his  driver  to  stop  in  a  narrow  street  then  known 
as  the  Rue  de  la  Ferroniere,  to  await  the  passage  of  two  carts 
which  blocked  the  way.  This  was  the  assassin’s  opportunity. 
Mounting  on  the  rear  wheel  of  the  coach  and  reaching  over 
the  shoulder  of  the  Duke  of  Epernon,  he  stabbed  the  unfor¬ 
tunate  King  with  a  long-bladed  knife.  The  monarch  cried 
out,  “I  am  wounded!”  The  murderer  had  not  been  seen  by 
the  inmates  of  the  carriage,  and  might  have  escaped  had  he 
thrown  down  the  knife.  Upon  reaching  the  ground,  however, 
he  stood  erect  and  as  motionless  as  a  statue  with  the  bloody 
knife  still  in  his  hand.  A  gentleman  standing  by  was  about 


210 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


to  run  Ravaillac  through  the  body  with  his  sword,  but  was 
prevented  by  the  Duke  of  Epernon,  who  cried  out,  “Save  him, 
on  your  life!”  The  King  was  carried  back  to  the  Louvre, 
where  he  shortly  afterward  died.  The  punishment  meted  out 
to  his  murderer  was  barbarous  in  the  extreme.  Having  been 
fastened  firmly  to  a  wooden  cross,  his  right  hand  was  burned 
off  in  a  slow  fire.  The  fleshy  parts  of  his  body  were  torn  with 
red-hot  pincers  and  into  the  gaping  wounds  were  poured 
melted  lead,  hot  oil,  pitch  and  rosin. 


CHAPTER  XIII 


ASSASSIN  ATI  O  N— CONTINUED 

William,  Prince  of  Orange,  and  Count  of  Nassau,  commonly 
known  as  William  of  Orange,  was  the  real  founder  of  the 
independence  of  the  Netherlands.  He  was  born  in  1533,  and 
was  one  of  the  most  illustrious  men  of  his  age.  Well  beloved 
by  millions  of  people,  he  was  quite  as  cordially  hated  by  an 
equally  great  number.  He  was  the  idol  of  the  Dutch,  and  an 
implacable  foe  of  the  Spanish  Inquisition.  When  a  boy  of 
fifteen,  he  became  the  page  of  the  Emperor  Charles  V.,  who 
took  great  interest  in  him,  attended  to  his  education,  and 
rapidly  advanced  his  youthful  proteg£.  In  1555,  when  Wil¬ 
liam  was  but  twenty-two  years  of  age,  the  Emperor  promoted 
him  over  the  heads  of  many  veteran  officers  and  placed  him 
in  command  of  the  Imperial  army  on  the  French  frontier. 
Upon  his  abdication,  Charles  strongly  recommended  WTilliam 
to  his  son,  and  successor,  Philip,  who  employed  him  to  draw 
the  treaty  of  Cateau-Cambresis,  and  selected  him  as  one  of  the 
four  hostages  to  be  given  to  France  for  its  fulfilment.  During 
his  residence  in  Paris,  William  was  confidentially  informed  by 
Henry  II.  of  a  secret  arrangement  between  France  and  Spain, 
looking  to  the  complete  extermination  of  all  heretics  in  both 
countries.  Although  a  very  young  man,  William  was  lacking 
neither  in  courage  nor  prudence,  and,  although  greatly 
shocked  at  such  a  proposition,  he  was  able  to  maintain  his 
composure,  and  at  the  same  time  he  solemnly  resolved  in  his 
own  mind  to  oppose,  with  every  means  in  his  power,  the 
execution  in  the  Netherlands  of  the  infamous  scheme. 
Returning  to  the  Netherlands,  the  prince  became  the  leader  of 
the  party  pledged  to  maintain  the  chartered  liberties  of  the 
country. 


2  12 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


In  the  long  wars  which  ensued,  William  developed  such 
masterly  skill,  and  possessed  such  unbounded  control  over  his 
people,  that  the  Spaniards  offered  an  enormous  reward, 
amounting  to  a  million  dollars,  to  any  one  who  would  assas¬ 
sinate  him.  This  offer,  which  was  made  by  Philip,  whom  he 
had  at  one  time  served,  was  accompanied  by  a  guarantee  of  a 
full  and  free  pardon,  together  with  a  patent  of  Spanish 
nobility.  This  proposal  was  made  on  the  18th  of  March,  1580, 
and  was  a  virtual  death  warrant  for  the  high-minded,  humane 
and  patriotic  prince.  The  first  attempt  upon  the  life  of  the 
Prince  of  Orange  was  made  on  Sunday,  March  18,  1582. 
After  leaving  the  table,  where  he  had  entertained  a  number  of 
noblemen  at  dinner,  he  started  at  the  head  of  his  guests  to 
conduct  them  to  a  different  part  of  the  palace.  Pausing  on 
the  threshold  to  call  the  attention  of  the  company  to  a  fine 
piece  of  tapestry,  he  was  approached  by  a  young  man  of 
slender  build  and  agreeable  appearance,  who  presented  a 
petition.  While  William  was  making  ready  to  examine  the 
document-  the  pretended  petitioner  produced  a  pistol,  which 
he  placed  near  the  head  of  the  prince  and  fired.  The  bullet 
entered  the  neck  under  the  right  ear  and  came  out  under  the 
left  jaw.  So  near  was  the  weapon  that  the  greater  portion  of 
the  prince’s  beard  was  burned  off.  The  magnanimity  of 
William  is  well  illustrated  by  his  first  word  after  he  realized 
that  an  attempt  had  been  made  upon  his  life.  “Do  not  kill 
him!”  he  cried,  “I  forgive  him  my  death!” 

But  the  thoughtful  and  merciful  direction  came  too  late. 
The  words  had  not  left  his  mouth  when  the  miserable  assassin 
fell,  his  body  pierced  in  thirty-two  places  by  the  weapons  of 
the  attendants,  who  were  supposed  to  guard  the  prince  against 
like  attacks,  which  had  long  been  expected.  Besides,  he  was 
run  through  by  the  swords  of  two  of  the  accompanying  noble¬ 
men.  The  name  of  the  would-be  assassin  was  Juan  Juareguy, 
an  employe  of  a  Spanish  merchant,  domiciled  at  Antwerp. 
There  was  little  doubt  but  what  the  young  man  undertook  the 
desperate  and  wicked  deed  for  the  one  purpose  of  obtaining 
the  promised  reward. 

*  For  a  long  time  William  lay  in  a  most  critical  condition,  his 


ASSASSINATION— CONTINUED 


213 


physicians  being  unable  to  determine  whether  he  would 
recover  or  succumb  to  the  effects  of  his  wound.  So  great 
was  the  devotion  of  his  people,  who  universally  loved  him, 
that  business  was  largely  suspended,  the  one  anxiety 
being  to  obtain  the  latest  news  from  the  bed-chamber  of 
the  wounded  prince.  By  May  2d,  he  had  so  far  recovered  as 
to  be  able  to  attend  a  public  thanksgiving  for  his  fortunate 
escape,  in  the  great  cathedral.  Not  only  was  the  church 
crowded  to  suffocation,  but  the  streets  were  thronged,  while 
the  shouts  of  the  populace  attested  the  extreme  joy  of  the 
nation. 

Two  months  later  two  desperate  scoundrels,  Salseda,  a 
Spaniard,  and  Basa,  an  Italian,  attempted  to  earn  the  magnifi¬ 
cent  reward  offered  by  Philip.  Their  plan  was  to  dispatch 
the  prince  by  the  administration  of  poison.  Their  plot  was 
fortunately  discovered,  and  they  were  thrown  into  prison, 
where  Basa  succeeded  in  committing  suicide.  Salseda  was 
executed  in  a  manner  that  suggested  the  cruelties  of  the 
Inquisition,  which  the  Dutch  so  violently  denounced ;  his  body 
being  torn  to  pieces  by  four  horses. 

The  third  attempt  upon  the  life  of  the  Prince  of  Orange 
was  rnady  by  one  Pietro  Dorgogne,  who  came  to  Holland 
from  Spain  in  March,  1583,  for  that  purpose,  but  who  failed  to 
accomplish  his  design.  In  1584,  Hans  Hanzoon,  a  resident  of 
Flushing,  tried  to  win  the  reward  and  title  of  nobility  by 
placing  a  charge  of  gunpowder  beneath  William’s  seat  in 
church,  but  the  explosion  failed  to  occur.  The  Duke  of 
Parma,  one  of  William’s  most  deadly  enemies,  released  a 
French  officer  named  LeGoth  from  prison,  for  the  express 
purpose  of  poisoning  the  prince.  Instead  of  doing  this,  he 
exposed  the  plot,  and  became  one  of  his  most  faithful  and 
devoted  followers. 

But  the  Prince  of  Orange  did  not  bear  a  charmed  life,  and 
he  was  unable  to  escape  the  cupidity  that  the  promised  reward 
aroused  in  thousands  of  murderous  hearts.  The  sixth  attempt 
proved  successful.  It  was  made  at  noon  on  Tuesday,  July  10, 
1584.  With  his  wife  upon  his  arm,  William  was  on  his  way  to 
the  dining-room,  when  a  man  named  Balthhazar  Gerard 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


2  14 

approached  and  requested  a  passport.  The  prince  appeared 
to  think  nothing  of  the  very  usual  occurrence,  and  paid  no 
regard  to  the  whispered  admonition  of  his  wife,  “I  have 
never  seen  so  villainous  a  countenance,”  but  directed  his  secre¬ 
tary  to  give  Gerard  the  document  he  had  requested.  This 
done,  he  passed  on  into  the  dining-room,  where  he  engaged 
in  cheerful  conversation  with  a  number  of  friends  who  sat  at 
the  table  with  him.  This  apartment  was  on  the  first  floor  of 
the  palace,  and  connected  with  an  ante-room  from  which  a 
flight  of  stairs  led  to  the  prince’s  rooms  above.  In  this  ante¬ 
room,  in  the  shadow  of  an  archway,  Gerard  had  succeeded  in 
ensconcing  himself,  and  here  he  awaited  the  appearance  of  his 
victim.  The  foot  of  the  prince  had  only  reached  the  first 
stair,  when  the  report  of  a  pistol  rang  out,  and  William  of 
Orange  fell  backward  into  the  arms  of  Jacob  Van  Waldere. 
Death  was  almost  instantaneous,  yet,  before  he  expired,  he 
exclaimed:  “My  God,  have  pity  on  my  soul!  My  God,  have 
pity  on  this  poor  people!”  The  assassin  made  an  effort  to 
escape,  but  was  intercepted,  overpowered  and  thrown  into 
prison.  Four  days  later  the  wretch  who  had  taken  the  life  of 
one  of  the  best  and  truest  of  men  paid  a  fearful  penalty  for 
his  awful  crime.  The  spectacle  would  have  wrung  the  heart 
of  the  brave,  yet  gentle  William  of  Orange.  He  had 
previously  been  subjected  to  the  torture  of  having  some  of 
his  joints  dislocated  by  the  rack,  and  his  body  seamed  and 
scarred  by  flames.  Nevertheless,  although  suffering  intense 
pain,  he  ascended  the  scaffold  calmly  and  unhesitatingly.  His 
right  hand  was  burned  off  by  a  red-hot  iron,  yet,  although 
suffering  the  most  excruciating  agony,  not  a  groan  escaped  his 
lips.  Red-hot  pincers  then  tore  the  flesh  from  his  body  in  six 
different  places.  His  abdomen  was  next  cut  open,  and  the 
bowels  torn  out.  His  legs  and  arms  were  then  chopped  off 
close  to  the  trunk  of  his  body.  He  yet  lived.  He  ceased  to 
breathe  only  when  his  heart  had  been  cut  out  and  thrown  in 
his  face.  Finally  the  head  was  severed  from  the  body,  and  the 
sentence  had  been  executed. 

The  soil  of  France  seems  to  have  been  fruitful  in  bringing 
forth  assassins,  particularly  those  whose  murderous  impulse 


ASSASSINATIO  N— C  O  N  T  I  N  U  E  D 


2I5 


took  the  form  of  avenging  certain  real,  or  imaginary,  political 
offenses. 

A  desperate  attempt  was  made  in  December,  1800,  to  com¬ 
pass  the  death  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  while  he  was  yet  First 
Consul.  It  had  been  publicly  announced  that,  on  a  certain 
evening,  Napoleon  would  attend  the  opera,  and  this  occasion 
was  seized  upon  as  a  favorable  time  for  the  consummation  of 
a  plot,  formed  by  three  men,  to  assassinate  him.  Their 
attempt,  while  it  antedated  the  use  of  bombs  for  like  purposes, 
was  in  the  same  devilish  line.  They  procured  a  barrel,  which 
they  filled  with  gunpowder  and  grape-shot.  This  they  placed 
upon  a  cart,  which,  with  many  others,  was  drawn  up  at  the  side 
of  one  of  the  streets  along  which  the  state  carriage  would 
necessarily  pass.  One  of  the  conspirators,  St.  Regent  by 
name,  was  left  in  charge  of  the  cart  and  its  unique  engine  of 
destruction,  while  his  companions  repaired  to  the  neighbor¬ 
hood  of  the  Tulleries,  where  Bonaparte  had  recently  taken  up 
his  residence,  that  they  might  be  able  to  notify  him  of  the 
starting  of  Napoleon’s  carriage.  It  appears  that  the  life  of 
the  “man  of  destiny’’  was  saved  through  the  convivial  habits 
of  his  coachman.  He  had  been  drinking,  it  was  afterward 
shown,  and  drove  with  such  unusual  rapidity  that  the  two 
spies  were  unable  to  keep  in  advance  of  the  carriage.  St. 
Regent  did  not  perceive  the  carriage  until  it  was  almost  upon 
him.  As  quickly  as  possible  he  lighted  the  fuse  and  prepared 
to  save  himself  by  running,  but  his  progress  was  obstructed  by 
the  passing  of  a  detachment  of  cavalry,  and  the  explosion 
occurred  while  he  was  yet  near  the  spot.  The  results  were 
absolutely  appalling,  and  fairly  surpassed  the  carnage  pro¬ 
duced  by  our  modem  dynamite  bombs.  The  fronts  of  some 
forty  houses  were  completely  wrecked,  twenty  persons  were 
killed  and  fifty-two  wounded,  among  the  latter  being  St. 
Regent  himself.  Bonaparte  escaped  entirely  uninjured. 

Louis  Philippe,  King  of  France,  was  five  times  assaulted 
with  murderous  intent,  but  each  time  had  the  good  fortune  to 
escape.  One  of  these  assaults  was  undertaken  by  Damiens, 
known  in  history  as  the  “Regicide,’’  and  is  one  of  the  most 
famous  of  all  similar  attempts  ever  made  in  Paris.  The  mur- 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


2x6 

derous  assault  was  made  on  a  cold  winter’s  evening  in  1840, 
when  the  King  appeared  wrapped  in  two  fur-lined  overcoats. 
As  he  was  in  the  act  of  stepping  into  his  coach,  Damiens 
slipped  through  the  surrounding  guards  and  stabbed  Louis 
Philippe.  The  heavy  coats  worn  by  the  monarch  alone  saved 
him  from  instant  death.  Damiens  was  at  once  overpowered 
and  identified  by  the  King,  who  said:  “He  is  the  man;  arrest 
him,  but  do  him  no  harm.”  The  would-be  assassin  was  put 
to  death  in  a  most  cruel  manner. 

Of  all  the  attempts  to  take  the  life  of  Louis  Philippe,  the 
most  extraordinary  and  ingenious  was  that  made  by  Fieschi, 
who  devised  and  constructed  an  infernal  machine,  which  in 
some  respects  resembled  the  present  Gatling  gun.  He  rented 
a  room  in  a  street  through  which  the  King  was  accustomed  to 
pass,  either  in  his  carriage  or  on  horseback,  and  there  pro¬ 
ceeded  to  construct  his  engine  of  destruction.  Behind  the 
blind  of  one  of  the  windows  he  arranged  twenty-five  gun- 
barrels,  diverging  from  a  common  centre  like  the  ribs  of  a 
fan,  and  so  leveled  as  to  command  the  entire  width  of  the 
street  for  some  distance.  He  loaded  each  of  the  barrels  with 
a  heavy  charge  of  gunpowder  and  four  bullets.  A  train  of 
powder  was  connected  with  the  infernal  machine  in  such  a 
manner  that  they  could  all  be  simultaneously  discharged. 
Fieschi  selected  the  anniversary  of  the  King’s  coronation  as  the 
occasion  for  “removing”  him,  as  a  grand  procession  was  to 
pass  along  the  Boulevard  du  Temple,  where  the  assassin  had 
erected  his  deadly  battery  of  guns.  When  Fieschi  judged  that 
the  auspicious  moment  had  arrived,  he  opened  the  blind  and 
applied  the  match.  The  result  was  a  veritable  massacre,  no 
less  than  forty  persons  falling,  dead  and  wounded,  to  the  pave¬ 
ment.  The  horse  ridden  by  the  King  was  shot  through  the 
neck,  but  Louis  Philippe  escaped  uninjured,  except  that  a 
bullet  slightly  grazed  his  cheek.  In  addition  to  the  cases 
detailed,  the  life  of  this  monarch  was  attempted  by  Aliband  in 
1836,  and  by  Le  Compte  and  Henri  in  1846. 

An  assassination  that  has  passed  as  a  most  remarkable 
occurrence  into  French  history,  and  that  of  the  world,  for  that 
matter,  was  the  killing  of  Marat  by  Marie  Anne  Charlotte 


ASSASSINATIO  N— C  O  N  T  I N  U  E  D 


217 

Corday  D’ Armans,  known  to  the  world  as  Charlotte  Corday. 
Marat  was  one  of  the  foremost  men  of  the  French  Revolu¬ 
tion,  dividing  the  rather  doubtful  honor  with  Danton  and 
Robespierre.  Charlotte  was  born  at  St.  Saturninin  1768.  She 
came  of  an  old  and  quite  aristocratic  family,  but  seems  to  have 
early  imbibed  republican  and  revolutionary  principles.  Not¬ 
withstanding  this,  she  became  horrified  at  the  acts  of  the 
Jacobins.  Her  hatred  of  this  murderous  party  was  intensified 
by  acquaintance  with  a  number  of  proscribed  Girondists,  who 
fled  to  Normandy  for  safety.  Bitter  in  her  hatred,  yet  lofty 
in  her  ideas  of  the  rights  of  man,  she  resolved  to  rid  the 
country  of  at  least  one  of  the  oppressors  who  were  putting  the 
people  to  death  by  wholesale.  Accordingly,  she  made  ready 
for  her  journey  to  Paris.  Charlotte  was  poor,  and  is  said  to 
have  traveled  the  entire  distance,  nearly  two  hundred  miles, 
on  foot.  She  seems  not  to  have  definitely  determined  whether 
to  take  the  life  of  Robespierre  or  Marat,  but  an  act  of  extreme 
cruelty  on  the  part  of  the  latter,  the  demanding  by  him  of  one 
hundred  or  two  hundred  thousand  more  victims  for  the  guillo¬ 
tine,  decided  her  in  his  favor.  With  the  little  money  she  still 
possessed,  she  purchased  a  knife  and  called  upon  the  “Father 
of  the  people,”  as  Marat  was  then  known  by  his  adherents. 
Twice  she  was  unsuccessful,  but  the  third  time  found  Marat  at 
home. 

The  man  who  had  consigned  scores,  yes,  hundreds,  of  the 
people  to  an  infamous  death,  was  in  a  sitting  bath,  engaged 
in  writing  on  a  board.  This  was  upon  July  13,  1793.  She 
gained  admission  upon  the  statement  that  she  had  important 
news  from  Caen  to  communicate.  If  she  lacked  anything  of 
courage  and  determination  to  accomplish  her  design,  she  was 
reinforced  by  a  remark  of  Marat’s  to  the  effect  that  the 
Girondists,  some  of  whom  were  Charlotte’s  friends,  who  had 
fled  to  Normandy,  were  shortly  to  be  guillotined.  Drawing 
her  knife,  she  plunged  it  into  the  heart  of  the  monster  who 
had  given  himself  up  to  a  passion  for  human  blood,  and  he 
expired  with  a  single  groan. 

Charlotte  was  promptly  arrested  and  brought  before  the 
Revolutionary  Tribunal,  where  she  justified  her  act  and 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


218 

gloried  in  its  consummation.  As  a  matter  of  course,  she  was 
promptly  condemned  to  the  guillotine,  the  sentence  being 
carried  into  effect  on  July  17,  1793.  Sanson,  the  public 
executioner  of  Paris,  in  his  memoirs  declares  that  she  met 
her  death  with  the  most  perfect  complacency.  After  her 
head  fell  into  the  basket,  one  of  the  attendants — a  most  brutal 
and  inhuman  wretch — lifted  it  up  by  the  hair  and  struck  the 
beautiful  face.  Sanson  asserts  that  the  face  flushed  with 
indignation. 

A  romantic  incident  attended  the  death  of  Charlotte 
Corday.  A  young  Parisian  enthusiast,  named  Adam  Lux, 
hearing,  in  common  with  all  Paris,  of  the  assassination, 
attended  her  trial,  and  fell  violently  in  love  with  her.  He 
was  present  also  at  her  execution,  and  determined  to  join  her 
in  the  next  world.  Accordingly,  he  hastened  to  make  certain 
declarations  that,  as  he  well  knew,  would  lead  to  his  imme¬ 
diate  arrest,  condemnation  and  execution.  He  expressed  him¬ 
self  as  glad  to  yield  up  his  life,  and  died  expecting  to  be 
speedily  united  to  the  object  of  his  affection.  Modern  novel¬ 
ists  and  dramatists  have  represented  Adam  Lux  as  being  the 
accepted  suitor  of  Charlotte  Corday,  but  there  is  no  evidence 
that  the  two  ever  exchanged  a  single  word. 

During  the  days  of  the  last  French  Empire,  upon  January 
14,  1858,  a  carefully-planned  attempt  was  made  upon  the  life 
of  the  Emperor,  Louis  Napoleon.  The  principal  conspirators 
were  Italians  known  as  Orsini,  Pierre,  Gomez  and  Rudio.  To 
accomplish  their  design,  which  meant  the  destruction  of  the 
empire,  they  had  pear-shaped  hand-grenades  specially  manu¬ 
factured,  upon  some  pretext  or  another,  in  Birmingham,  Eng¬ 
land.  These  were  filled  with  a  powerful  explosive,  on  the 
larger  end  forty-five  nipples  being  arranged,  suitable  to  carry 
an  ordinary  percussion  cap.  The  announcement  having  been 
made  that  the  Emperor,  accompanied  by  the  royal  suite,  was 
to  pass  along  a  certain  avenue  on  their  way  to  the  grand 
opera,  Orsini  and  his  accomplices  took  their  stand  at  a  con¬ 
venient  and  commanding  point.  When  the  carriage  contain¬ 
ing  the  royal  couple  arrived,  the  assassins  promptly  threw 
their  deadly  bombs.  The  carriage  was  shattered  into  fra g- 


ASSASSINATIO  N— C  O  N  T  I  N  U  E  D 


219 

ments,  and  one  of  the  horses  killed,  but  Napoleon  and 
Eugenie  escaped  entirely  uninjured.  Two  footmen  were 
killed  outright,  however,  and  a  large  number  of  people 
wounded. 

One  of  the  latest  assassinations  of  note  in  France  occurred 
at  Lyons,  on  the  evening  of  June  24,  1894,  Marie  Francois 
Sadi-Carnot,  President  of  France,  being  stabbed  to  death  by  a 
young  Italian  anarchist  named  Caserio  Geronemo.  President 
Carnot  was  at  Lyons  in  connection  with  the  International 
Exposition,  being  held  there.  Shortly  after  nine  o’clock  in 
the  evening,  as  he  was  being  driven  to  the  theatre,  Caserio,  as 
he  was  called,  leaped  upon  the  step  of  the  carriage  and  stabbed 
President  Carnot  with  a  poniard  so  severely  that  he  died 
shortly  after  twelve  o’clock  that  night.  Caserio  was  rescued 
from  the  fury  of  the  populace  with  considerable  difficulty,  and 
lodged  in  prison. 

President  Carnot  was  born  in  1837,  and  had  filled  several 
important  public  places  before  his  election  to  the  presidency, 
December  3,  1887.  He  was  a  man  of  marked  ability  and  high 
integrity.  His  death  was  most  sincerely  mourned  by  the 
French  people. 

Caserio  was  arraigned  for  trial  at  Lyons,  August  2,  1894. 
He  assumed  an  air  of  bravado,  and  acknowledged  himself  the 
assassin  of  M.  Carnot.  He  was  a  fanatical  anarchist,  and 
killed  the  French  President  to  avenge  the  execution  of  three 
noted  anarchists,  Ravochal,  Valiant  and  Flenri.  He  claimed 
to  have  had  no  accomplices,  yet  one  Granier,  an  associate  of 
his,  committed  suicide  by  disemboweling  himself,  June  28, 
1894,  rather  than  submit  to  arrest. 

Caserio  was  guillotined  very  early  in  the  morning  of  August 
16,  1894.  When  brought  face  to  face  with  death,  all  his 
bravado  left  him,  and  his  cowardly  nature  showed  itself  in  its 
true  colors.  It  was  found  necessary  to  carry  him  to  the 
guillotine. 

On  October  25,  1878,  an  attempt  was  made  to  assassinate 
King  Alfonso  of  Spain,  who  had  just  returned  to  Madrid  after 
a  month’s  absence  upon  a  tour  of  inspection  through  the 
northern  provinces  of  his  kingdom.  On  that  day  he  had 


220 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


reviewed,  in  tlie  presence  of  Ex-President  Grant  and  several 
distinguished  French  and  German  officers,  that  portion  of  the 
standing  army  which  was  stationed  at  the  capital.  As  the 
young  King  passed  through  the  streets  from  the  field  of 
review,  he  was  welcomed  by  the  plaudits  and  acclamations  of 
the  vast  crowd  which  thronged  the  streets.  Ladies  waved 
their  handkerchiefs  and  fans,  while  flowers  were  showered 
upon  him  from  the  balconies.  Suddenly  a  young  man  pushed 
his  way  to  the  front,  and  fired  a  pistol  point-blank  at  Alfonso. 
The  bullet  missed  the  mark,  and  the  would-be  murderer  was 
instantly  seized.  His  name  was  Juan  Oliva  Moncari;  he 
was  a  cooper,  twenty-five  years  of  age.  In  his  own  native 
district  of  Tarragona,  Moncari  was  known  as  a  rabid  revolu¬ 
tionist.  He  was  as  cool  as  he  was  daring,  and  stated  that  he 
did  not  feel  a  single  pang  of  remorse,  that  he  had  meditated 
the  crime  for  a  long  period,  and  had  come  to  Madrid  expressly 
to  carry  it  into  execution. 

The  ancient  inhabitants  of  Britain  were  a  quarrelsome  and 
revengeful  people,  and  assassination  was  often  the  end  of  the 
kings  and  chiefs  who  divided  the  territory  and  fought  each 
other  to  the  death,  to  maintain  what  they  had  often  ruthlessly 
seized.  The  hatred  of  oppression  and  the  love  of  liberty, 
inherent  in  the  Anglo-Saxon  race,  wherever  it  exists,  reached 
a  crisis  in  the  days  of  King  John,  surnamed  Lackland,  who 
was  born  in  1160,  and  although  the  youngest  of  the  five  sons 
of  Henry  II. — the  monster  who  procured  the  assassination  of 
Thomas  a  Becket — ascended  the  throne  of  England  in  1199. 
By  his  oppressive  acts  John  arrayed  against  himself  the  free 
barons  of  England,  who  defeated  him  in  battle,  and  at  Runny- 
mede,  on  the  15th  of  June,  1215,  forced  him  to  sign  Magna 
Charta — the  Great  Charter — upon  which  the  liberties,  not  only 
of  Great  Britain,  but  of  the  United  States  as  well,  are 
primarily  based.  We  who  enjoy  constitutional  liberty  owe  a 
debt  to  those  ancient  warriors  who  secured  the  first  genuine 
concession  from  the  hereditary  kings  of  England.  The  con¬ 
cluding  lines  of  an  inscription  written  by  Mark  Aikenside  for 
a  column  at  Runnymede — which  has  never  been  erected — may 
well  be  quoted ; 


ASSASSINATTO  N— C  O  N  T I N  U  E  D 


221 


“  This  is  the  place  where  England’s  ancient  barons, 

Clad  in  arms  and  stern  with  conquest, 

From  their  tyrant  king,  then  rendered  tame, 

Did  challenge  and  procure  the  charter  of  thy  freedom. 

Pass  not  on  till  thou  has  blessed  their  memory 
And  paid  those  duties  God  appointed  the  reward 
Of  public  virtue.  And  if  chance  thy  house 
Salute  thee  with  a  father’s  honored  name, 

Go,  call  thy  sons,  instruct  them  what  a  debt 

They  owe  their  ancestors,  and  make  them  swear 

To  pay  it,  by  transmitting  down  entire 

Those  sacred  rights  to  which  they  themselves  were  born. 

From  the  days  of  John,  greater  liberty  was  enjoyed  in 
England,  and  assassinations  of  royal  personages  decreased  in 
number.  John,  himself,  was  a  murderer  and  an  employer  of 
assassins.  One  of  the  most  detestable  of  all  his  infamous  acts 
was  the  assassination  of  Maud  Witz  waiter,  known  as  “Maud 
the  Fair.”  She  was  said  to  be  the  most  beautiful  woman  in 
all  England,  and  arrested  the  attention  of  King  John.  But 
Maud  proved  decidedly  different  from  most  of  the  ladies  of  the 
depraved  court;  she  repulsed  the  advances  of  the  king,  and 
incurred  the  royal  displeasure.  By  order  of  John,  she  was 
confined  in  the  highest,  coldest  and  least  comfortable  of  all  the 
cheerless  chambers  of  the  Tower  of  London,  where  so  many 
unfortunates  have  spent  their  last  hours. 

If  the  sensual  monarch  imagined  that  such  severe  proceed¬ 
ings  would  conquer  the  virtue  enthroned  in  the  heart  of  the 
fair  captive,  he  was  doomed  to  disappointment.  Satisfied  on 
this  point,  John  decided  that  she  should  pay  for  her  refusal 
with  her  life.  For  a  long  time  she  was  left  without  sustenance 
of  any  kind,  and  then  given  poisoned  food  upon  which  to  break 
her  fast.  She  speedily  died,  and  added  one  more  victim  to  the 
long  list  of  women  murdered  by  this  infamous  wretch. 

One  of  the  most  cruel  of  all  the  acts  of  this  man,  who 
stopped  at  no  crime  to  pander  to  his  passions  or  further  his 
ambitious  designs,  was  the  assassination  of  Prince  Arthur. 
Arthur  was  the  son  of  Geoffrey,  John’s  elder  brother,  and  was 
lineally  the  rightful  heir  to  the  throne.  At  that  time,  how¬ 
ever,  the  law  of  primogeniture  was  not  as  well  established  as 


222 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


at  present ;  but  Arthur  had  many  powerful  supporters,  among 
them  Philip, King  of  France.  At  the  time  when  John  ascended 
the  throne,  Arthur,  who  was  a  posthumous  child,  was  but 
twelve  years  of  age,  and  a  handsome,  engaging  youth.  While 
yet  a  boy,  Arthur,  supported  by  King  Philip,  took  the  field  to 
obtain  his  rights.  Through  a  mean  stratagem  of  John,  he  was 
taken  prisoner  and  thrown  into  the  castle  of  Falaise,  in  Nor¬ 
mandy.  Thither  John  sent  a  hired  assassin  to  kill  the  young 
prince  and  another  to  burn  out  his  handsome  eyes.  But 
Herbert  de  Bourg,  the  warden  of  the  castle,  moved  by  the 
entreaties  of  the  youthful  prisoner,  prevented  the  consumma¬ 
tion  of  the  infamous  plans. 

Arthur  was  soon  removed  from  the  custody  of  the  tender¬ 
hearted  Herbert,  whom  Shakespeare  has  immortalized,  and 
lodged  in  another  prison.  Here  the  boy  was  murdered, 
exactly  how  is  not  entirely  clear,  although  it  is  said  by  some 
historians  that  he  was  put  to  death  by  John  himself,  who 
drowned  him  in  the  river.  The  King  paid  dearly  for  his 
baseness,  Philip  of  France  seizing  the  greater  portion  of  his 
continental  possessions. 

Several  attempts  upon  the  lives  of  royal  personages  in 
England  have  been  made  within  comparatively  recent  years. 
On  the  evening  of  May  15,  1800,  the  life  of  George  III.  was 
placed  in  jeopardy  by  the  act  of  a  would-be  regicide.  Drury 
Lane  Theatre,  then  the  leading  place  of  amusement  in  Lon¬ 
don,  was  the  scene  of  the  attempt.  The  announcement  had 
been  made  that  the  King  would  be  present  that  night,  and  the 
theatre  was  literally  packed.  Richard  Brinsley  Sheridan,  the 
distinguished  dramatist  and  orator,  whose  plays  still  hold 
audiences,  and  some  of  whose  orations  are,  even  now,  regarded 
as  models,  was  manager  of  the  theatre  and  had  made  extra¬ 
ordinary  preparations  to  receive  and  entertain  the  royal 
visitor.  The  King  had  hardly  finished  bowing  in  recognition 
of  the  storm  of  applause  excited  by  his  appearance  in  the  box, 
when  a  pistol-shot  rang  out  and  a  puff  of  smoke  was  seen  to 
curl  upward  from  the  pit.  The  markmanship  of  the  miscreant 
was  very  defective,  and  George  escaped  entirely  uninjured. 
The  would-be  assassin  was  quickly  seized,  and,  amid  the  wild- 


ASSASSINATIO  N— C  O  N  T I N  U  E  D 


223 


est  tumult,  removed  to  the  music  room,  under  the  stage. 
Here  he  was  confronted  by  the  Duke  of  York.  Being  interro¬ 
gated  as  to  his  name  and  motives,  the  man  said,  turning  to  the 
duke:  “My  name  is  James  Hatfield;  God  bless  your  Royal 
Highness;  I  like  you  very  well;  you  are  a  good  fellow.”  Soon 
afterward  he  added:  “I  bear  no  malice  toward  the  King;  I 
was  tired  of  living;  my  plan  was  to  get  rid  of  it  by  some 
means  or  other;  I  did  not  intend  anything  against  the  king’s 
life;  I  knew  that  an  attempt  would  answer  the  purpose.” 

The  scene  in  the  theatre  after  the  attempt  at  assassination 
was  dramatic  in  the  extreme.  Even  before  the  excitement 
had  subsided,  Mrs.  Jordan,  the  most  noted  actress  of  her  day, 
swept  grandly  down  before  the  footlights,  and,  omitting  the 
overture,  instantly  began  to  sing  the  national  anthem.  To 
this  song,  so  dear  to  the  heart  of  every  loyal  Briton,  Sheridan 
had,  upon  the  spur  of  the  moment,  added  the  following  stanza: 

“  From  every  latent  foe, 

From  the  assassin’s  blow 
God  shield  the  King. 

O’er  him  Thine  arm  extend, 

For  Britain’s  sake  defend 
Our  Father,  Prince  and  Friend, 

God  save  the  King.  ’  ’ 

Hatfield  was  brought  to  trial  and  was  defended  by  Lord 
Erskine,  one  of  the  most  famous  advocates  of  England.  The 
defense  was  insanity,  and  so  strong  a  case  was  made  that  the 
jury,  without  leaving  their  box,  returned  a  verdict  of  not 
guilty.  The  man  was  committed  to  an  insane  asylum,  where 
he  ended  his  days. 

The  first  of  several  attempts  upon  the  life  of  the  present 
sovereign  of  Great  Britain  was  made  June  io,  1840.  The 
assault  was  made  by  one  Edward  Oxford,  a  youth  of  nineteen, 
who  fired  two  shots  at  Queen  Victoria,  as,  accompanied  by  the 
Prince  Consort,  she  was  driving  up  Constitution  Hill. 
Neither  of  the  shots  took  effect.  When  a  mere  lad,  Oxford, 
who  was  born  at  Birmingham,  had  come  to  London  and  found 
employment  as  pot-boy  in  a  public  house.  He  was  subse¬ 
quently  promoted  to  the  position  of  bar-man,  and  in  this 


224 


% 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 

capacity  had  served  in  several  inns  and  tap-rooms  in  the 
metropolis.  In  April,  1840,  he  took  lodgings  in  Lambeth,  and 
began  to  frequent  shooting-galleries  in  Leicester  Square  and 
on  the  Strand.  He  was  arrested  immediately  after  the  firing, 
but  manifested  no  unwillingness  to  accompany  the  officers, 
exclaiming,  “It  was  I;  I  did  it;  I  will  give  myself  up;  there 
is  no  occasion  to  use  violence;  I  will  go  with  you.’’  Upon  his 
examination  before  the  Privy  Council,  he  showed  little  con¬ 
cern.  He  seemed  to  have  an  insane  craze  for  notoriety,  and 
his  complacency  during  the  progress  of  his  trial  was  extraor¬ 
dinary.  When  the  indictment  was  read  in  court,  he  burst 
into  loud  and  discordant  peals  of  laughter.  The  evidence 
adduced  in  his  trial  developed  the  fact  that  his  father  had  been 
repeatedly  confined  in  institutions  for  the  insane.  He  was 
acquitted  upon  the  plea  of  insanity,  and  committed  to  an 
insane  asylum  for  life. 

Two  years  later,  on  May  30,  1842,  the  life  of  the  Queen  was 
again  placed  in  jeopardy.  This  time  the  assault  was  made  by 
a  man  named  John  Francis.  He  adopted  the  weapon 
employed  b)^  Oxford,  and  fired  at  Victoria  from  nearly  the 
same  place  where  the  young  bar-man  had  sought  to  gain 
notoriety.  His  motive  appears  to  have  been  the  same  as  that 
of  his  predecessor.  He  made  no  defense,  and  was  convicted 
and  sentenced  to  death,  but  was  magnanimously  pardoned  by 
his  intended  victim.  This  act  of  royal  clemency  appears  to 
have  been  ill-advised,  for  within  five  weeks  she  was  again  fired 
upon.  This  time  her  assailant  was  a  mere  boy,  only  sixteen 
years  of  age.  He  was  a  hunchback,  named  William  Bean,  of 
rather  revolting  appearance.  One  of  the  press  reports  of  that 
day  describes  him  as  a  “long,  sickly,  pale-faced  youth,  with 
light  hair.”  Over  one  eye  he  wore  a  black  patch,  while  his 
nose  was  disfigured  by  a  repulsive  scar.  He  was  instantly 
seized  by  a  lad  about  his  own  age  named  Dasset,  who  handed 
him  over  to  the  police.  It  transpired  that  fhe  pistol  he  had 
employed  was  loaded  with  powder  and  pieces  of  a  clay  pipe. 
It  might  have  been  supposed  that  the  Government  would,  hy 
this  time,  have  seen  the  importance  of  imposing  a  severe  sen¬ 
tence,  with  a  view  of  checking  the  epidemic  of  youthful 


ASSASSINATIO  N— C  O  N  T  I N  U  E  D 


225 


assassins ;  but  such  was  not  the  case.  Young  Bean  was  merely 
charged  with  a  misdemeanor,  and  escaped  with  eighteen 
months  imprisonment  at  hard  labor. 

Once  more  the  Queen  of  England  was  a  target  for  an 
assassin.  On  the  evening  of  May  19,  1849,  accompanied  by 
three  of  her  children,  she  was  driving  in  an  open  carriage 
along  one  of  the  principal  streets  of  London,  when  one  Wil¬ 
liam  Hamilton,  an  Irish  bricklayer,  discharged  a  pistol  at 
her.  On  the  14th  day  of  the  following  month  he  was 
arraigned  for  trial.  Hamilton  entered  a  plea  of  guilty,  and 
was  sentenced  to  seven  years  penal  servitude. 

In  this  connection  it  seems  to  be  worth  while  to  mention  an 
attempt  to  take  the  life  of  Sir  Robert  Peel.  This  was  made  on 
January  20,  1848,  by  a  man  named  Daniel  McNaughton,  who 
had  conceived  an  almost  insane  dislike  to  the  Prime  Minister. 
On  the  day  named,  McNaughton  took  up  a  position  in  Down¬ 
ing  Street,  awaiting  the  approach  of  Sir  Robert  to  the  Govern¬ 
ment  House  on  that  thoroughfare.  A  Mr.  Drummond,  who 
resided  in  Downing  Street,  happened  to  be  returning  to  his 
residence.  The  assassin  mistook  him  for  his  intended  victim, 
and,  approaching  from  behind,  shot  him  in  the  back.  Mr. 
Drummond  survived  for  only  five  days.  The  defense  of  the 
murderer  was  undertaken  by  Mr.  Alexander,  afterward  Lord 
Cockburn,  who  later  became  the  Chief  Justice  of  England,  and 
well  known  to  the  American  people,  by  reason  of  his  connec¬ 
tion  with  the  prosecution  by  the  United  States  of  the  Alabama 
Claims.  The  eminent  advocate  secured  an  acquittal  of  his 
client,  and  his  success  upon  this  occasion  was  always  regarded 
by  him  as  one  of  the  most  brilliant  of  his  long  career  at  the 
bar.  The  plea  he  offered  in  McNaughton’s  behalf  was 
temporary  insanity,  and  so  ably  did  he  urge  it  that  the  judges 
presiding  at  the  trial  directed  the  jury  to  bring  in  a  verdict  of 
“not  guilty,”  and  the  man  was  allowed  to  go  free,  to  commit  a 
similar  offense  in  the  future  should  his  homicidal  impulses 
impel  him  thereto. 

Several  of  the  rulers  of  modern  Russia  have  died  violent 
deaths.  This  is  in  part  chargeable  to  the  passionate  nature  of 
the  people  of  that  country,  but  principally  to  the  arbitrary 


226 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


government  of  the  Czars,  who  have  long  ruled  in  a  cruel  and 
oppressive  manner,  exercising  almost  absolute  power.  The 
Emperor  Paul  fell  at  the  hands  of  assassins.  Efforts  have 
been  made  to  show  that  his  death  was  not  deliberately  planned, 
but  there  is  little  doubt  but  what  such  was  the  case.  He  was 
the  son  of  the  unfortunate  Peter  III.,  who  was  assassinated  in 
1762  by  Alexis  Orloff,  acting  in  connection  with  his  brother 
Gregori,  for  which  murderous  act  they  both  received  high 
honors  and  great  pecuniary  rewards.  His  mother  was  the 
brilliant  but  infamous  Catherine  II. 

The  son  of  such  a  woman  as  Catherine  could  not  well  be 
other  than  cruel  and  revengeful.  She  had  kept  him  in  con¬ 
stant  restraint,  and  when,  upon  her  death  in  1796,  he  ascended 
the  throne,  he  was  very  poorly  equipped  for  the  high  duties 
that  awaited  him.  Mr.  Carr,  in  his  very  entertaining  and 
instructive  work,  “A  Northern  Tour,”  has  given  the  following 
graphic  account  of  the  assassination  of  Paul,  which  occurred 
on  the  night  of  March  24,  1801. 

“The  Emperor  had  been  worried  by  some  apprehension  of 
mischief,  and  took  a  more  than  usuallv  affectionate  farewell  of 
his  wife  and  children  in  the  fatal  night.  He  lay  down  as 
usual,  in  his  regimentals  and  boots,  and  his  guards  took  up 
their  posts  before  his  chamber  door.  Silence,  at  length, 
reigned  throughout  the  palace,  except  when  it  was  disturbed 
by  the  pacing  of  the  sentinels,  or  the  murmurs  of  the  Neva. 
In  the  dead  of  the  night  nine  conspirators  passed  the  draw¬ 
bridge  and  made  their  way  stealthily  up  the  staircase  to  the 
emperor’s  chamber,  where,  by  this  time,  the  guards  had  been 
changed  by  the  contrivance  of  the  assassins,  all  but  one  faith¬ 
ful  hussar,  who  had  the  distinction  of  always  sleeping  at  the 
bedroom  door  of  his  Imperial  Master,  in  an  ante-room.  This 
man  it  had  been  found  impossible  to  corrupt,  and  when  the 
conspirators  entered  the  ante-chamber,  he  challenged  them, 
and  was  immediately  cut  down.  As  the  whole  party  rushed 
in,  the  emperor  sprang  from  his  couch.  At  first,  the  helpless 
monarch  endeavored  to  find  shelter  behind  the  tables  and 
chairs.  Then,  for  a  moment,  recovering  his  self-possession, 
he  assumed  a  tone  of  authority.  He  declared  they  were  his 


ASSASSINATION— CONTINUED  227 

prisoners,  and  called  upon  them  to  surrender.  When  the 
merciless  ring  closed  around  him,  however,  the  wretched  man 
began  to  beg  so  piteously  for  his  life  that  one  of  the  conspir¬ 
ators  relented,  and  for  a  moment  seemed  half  inclined  to  side 
with  the  victim.  Paul  offered  to  relinquish  the  sceptre,  prom¬ 
ising  to  make  them  all  princes  and  give  them  estates.  He 
realized  that  all  this  was  vain,  and  plunged  madly  for  the 
window,  which  he  attempted  to  break  through,  fearfully  gash¬ 
ing  his  hands  in  the  struggle.  Dragged  back  from  the  win¬ 
dow,  he  seized  a  chair  and  fought  desperately  with  it.  ‘We 
have  passed  the  Rubicon,’  said  one  of  the  conspirators;  ‘if  we 
spare  his  life,  before  the  setting  of  to-morrow’s  sun  we  shall 
be  his  victims.’  Thus  rallied,  the  murderers  passed  a  sash 
around  the  neck  of  the  struggling  Emperor,  and  in  another 
minute  or  two  all  was  over,  and  the  conspirators  dispersed 
quickly  to  their  homes.  ’  ’ 

The  Emperor  Alexander  II.,  sometimes  called  the  “Eman¬ 
cipator,”  by  reason  of  his  having  freed  the  serfs  of  Russia, 
escaped  from  so  many  murderous  assaults  that  the  people 
began  to  think  he  bore  a  charmed  life  and  was  proof  against 
the  plots  of  the  Nihilists,  and,  indeed,  there  was  much  in  his 
remarkable  career  to  justify  this  belief  on  the  part  of  credulous 
and  superstitious  people. 

At  the  gate  of  the  Summer  Garden  in  St.  Petersburg  there 
is  an  image  of  the  Virgin,  upon  the  base  of  which  is  engraved 
the  inscription,  “Touch  not  mine  anointed.”  Upon  the 
ground  where  it  stands  the  first  attempt  was  made  upon  the 
life  of  Alexander  II.,  on  April  16,  1866.  The  assassins  failed 
in  the  accomplishment  of  their  purpose,  but  another  attempt 
was  made  upon  the  6th  day  of  June  in  the  following  year, 
while  the  czar  was  driving  with  Napoleon  III.  in  Paris. 
There  is  little  doubt  that  the  attack  last  mentioned  was  made 
by  men  who  had  at  one  time  owed  natural  allegiance  to  his 
throne,  but  who  had  expatriated  themselves  either  because 
of  hatred  for  the  ruling  monarch,  or  on  account  of  having 
committed  some  crime.  On  December  4,  1879,  Alexander 
passed  safely  over  a  railroad  whose  track  had  been  under¬ 
mined,  and  beneath  which  had  been  placed  explosives  intended 


228 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


to  destroy  him.  Two  years  later,  the  dining-room  of  the 
Winter  Palace,  in  which  he  was  expected  to  have  taken  his 
evening  meal,  was  blown  up  and  nine  soldiers  were  killed. 

These  remarkable  escapes  seem  to  have  convinced  the 
Nihilists  that  they  must  resort  to  strategy,  rather  than  open 
violence,  to  accomplish  their  purpose,  the  “removal”  of  a  man 
whom  they  doubtless  honestly  believed  to  be  a  foe  to  Russian 
liberty  and  Russian  advancement.  It  being  known  that  the 
Emperor  was  a  sufferer  from  asthma,  some  member  of  the 
organization,  doubtless  acting  under  instructions  from  a  higher 
authority  in  the  order,  sent  him  a  box  of  pills,  presumably  as 
a  remedy  for  this  complaint.  The  box  was  opened  and  care¬ 
fully  investigated,  and  was  found  to  be  filled  with  an  explosive 
substance  in  a  quantity  sufficient  to  have  caused  the  death  of 
at  least  a  dozen  persons.  Soon  afterward,  he  received  a  peti¬ 
tion,  which,  upon  examination,  was  found  to  have  been 
sprinkled  with  a  poisonous  powder. 

Although  the  Czar  was  undoubtedly  a  brave  man,  these 
occurrences  could  not  but  have  most  seriously  affected  him. 
Threatened  with  death  at  every  turn,  and  doubtful  of  the  good 
faith  of  his  very  servants  and  intimate  associates — for  Nihilism 
had  permeated  the  highest  ranks  of  the  nobility — it  is  not  to  be 
wondered  that  Alexander  became  excessively  nervous. 
Under  this  terrible  mental  strain  the  strong  constitution  of 
the  emperor  began  to  weaken,  his  face  became  haggard,  and 
his  disposition  irritable  and  morose.  At  length,  however,  his 
native  manliness  asserted  itself,  and,  like  one  afflicted  with  an 
incurable  disease,  who  looks  his  impending  fate  fairly  in  the 
face,  Alexander  resolved  to  be  master  of  his  own  actions,  to 
enjoy  what  remained  to  him  of  life,  and,  like  Socrates,  “accept 
with  complacency  the  inevitable.”  He  positively  refused  to 
adopt  any  of  the  precautions  which  the  police  of  St.  Peters¬ 
burg  were  inclined  to  throw  around  his  royal  person.  “I  am 
a  man,”  he  said;  “I  will  go  and  come  as  I  please;  I  will  eat 
and  drink  what  I  like,  and  do  as  I  choose.  If  I  am  to  be 
murdered  in  the  end,  that  is  the  destiny  which  God  himself 
has  reserved  for  me.  I  have  already  lived  longer  than  any  of 
my  race;  as  to  death,  I  do  not  personally  fear  it.” 


ASSASSINATION— CONTINUED 


229 


It  was  thought  necessary,  however,  to  guard  the  person  of 
theCfcar  with  the  presence  of  one  of  his  most  devoted  friends, 
and  for  this  delicate  office  the  Count  Louis  Melikoff  was 
selected.  No  further  effort  was  put  forth  by  his  family  to 
control  his  actions,  except  so  far  as  might  be  conducted  by 
ordinary  principles  of  prudence,  and  the  czar  was  left  to  the 
exercise  of  his  own  free  will. 

On  March  13,  1881,  the  Princess  Dolgorouki,  who,  after 
more  or  less  scandal  at  the  court,  had  become  the  second  wife 
of  the  emperor,  received  a  warning  that  her  husband  was  to 
be  made  the  victim  of  assassination  upon  that  day;  mean¬ 
while,  the  czar  was  eating  what  he  chose,  drinking  what  he 
liked  and  going  where  he  pleased,  just  as  would  any  free  and 
untrammeled  citizen  of  our  own  republic,  who  feared  nothing 
in  consequence  of  the  free  exercise  of  his  will. 

Nevertheless,  on  the  day  when  the  princess  received  this 
communication,  in  her  anxiety  for  the  welfare  of  her  imperial 
consort,  she  solicited  him  to  remain  at  home.  The  temper  of 
Alexander  would  not  brook  the  pleadings  of  a  devoted  wife, 
nor  was  his  intellect  convinced  by  the  arguments  of  Melikoff, 
and  he  went  to  witness  one  of  those  gorgeous  military  parades 
for  which  St.  Petersburg  has  long  been  distinguished,  that 
was  to  occur  upon  the  parade  ground  of  the  Michel  Manage. 
He  was  expected  to  drive  from  this  parade  ground  to  the 
Winter  Palace  along  the  Neosky  Prospect.  On  this  day,  how¬ 
ever,  he  chose  a  route  running  along  the  bank  of  the  Catherine 
Canal.  On  the  way  to  the  palace,  the  czar,  riding  in  a  car¬ 
riage,  was  the  centre  of  a  rapidly-moving  group,  in  whose 
ranks  were  included  many  officers  of  the  imperial  household, 
mounted  on  horseback ;  he  had  reached  a  point  near  the  stable 
bridge  which  spans  the  canal,  when,  at  a  moment  and  in  a 
manner  entirely  unexpected,  he  received  his  death  wound. 
From  under  the  garden  wall  of  the  Michel  Palace  there  sprang 
a  man  in  the  dress  of  a  peasant,  who  had  been  patiently  wait¬ 
ing  the  arrival  of  the  imperial  party,  by  the  bank  of  the  canal. 
This  man,  as  the  Czar’s  carriage  passed,  threw  a  bomb  with 
such  fatal  effect  that,  falling  behind  the  carriage,  it  shattered 
the  back  of  the  vehicle,  killed  and  wounded  several  soldiers 


23  o 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


and  bystanders,  and  threw  the  fragments  of  the  carriage  over 
the  monarch’s  head.  Alexander,  nevertheless,  was  unhurt, 
and  at  once  stepped  from  the  vehicle  to  assist  a  wounded 
soldier.  Scarcely  two  minutes  had  elapsed  when  another  man, 
a  confederate  of  the  first,  threw  a  second  bomb  from  the  arch¬ 
way  of  the  gate  leading  into  the  Summer  Garden.  This  missile 
fell  at  the  feet  of  the  Czar  and  wrought  a  havoc  which  the 
thrower  could  have  scarcely  expected.  Columns  of  glittering 
snow  arose  high  in  the  air,  interspersed  with  which  were  flying 
fragments  of  wood  and  glass;  the  windows  of  the  imperial 
stables  broke  with  a  crashing  reverberation  upon  the  still  air, 
blown  into  myriads  of  pieces ;  the  white  mantle  of  the  earth, 
gleaming  with  refractions  such  as  diamonds  themselves  can 
scarcely  produce,  was  dyed  red  with  the  blood  which  flowed 
from  the  death  wounds  of  twenty  killed  and  wounded  men. 
Among  those  who  perished  was  the  man  who  had  thrown  the 
second  bomb,  destroyed  by  his  own  weapon.  The  lower  limbs 
of  the  Czar  were  fearfully  shattered,  and  his  left  eye  was  bulg¬ 
ing  from  its  socket;  his  clothing  was  literally  in  rags  and 
tatters.  When  those  around  him  tenderly  raised  his  prostrate 
form,  he  feebly  lifted  his  right  hand,  from  which  the  blood 
was  gushing,  toward  his  forehead,  and  murmured,  “Holodus, 
holodus,  ”  (Cold,  cold).  The  Grand  Duke  Michael,  whose 
heart  was  filled  with  sympathy,  quickly  seized  a  cap  from  one 
of  the  bystanders  and  placed  it  upon  the  head  of  the  czar. 
The  dying  man  said,  in  a  broken  voice,  “To  the  palace — 
quick;  die  there.”  He  was  placed  upon  a  sledge,  with  his 
head,  which  was  covered  with  blood,  resting  upon  the  breast 
of  the  chief  of  police,  and  was  driven  rapidly  to  the  Winter 
Palace,  where  he  expired  about  four  o’clock  that  day. 

No  Emperor  of  Germany  has  ever  been  more  warmly 
beloved  by  his  subjects,  or  more  generally  respected  by  the 
world  at  large,  than  William  I.  Supported  by  one  of  the 
ablest  prime  ministers  of  modern  times,  Prince  Bismarck,  he 
accomplished  the  unification  of  the  German  Empire  and 
blended  into  one  common  bond  the  hearts  and  allegiance  of 
all  those  who  were  naturally  related  through  the  inheritance  of 
German  blood,  or  the  use  of  the  German  tongue.  It  was  he 


/ 


ASSASSINATIO  N— C  ONTINUED  231 

who  led  the  German  armies  upon  their  march  which  tri¬ 
umphed  at  Sedan  and  ended  gloriously  at  Paris.  His  personal 
life  was  as  free  from  scandal  as  his  domestic  relations  were 
full  of  happiness.  That  he  had  made  enemies  is  true ;  but,  as 
a  rule,  the  man  who  makes  no  enemies  deserves  no  friends. 

Although  almost  deified  by  the  enthusiasts  of  Germany,  but 
a  few  years  passed  before  a  dastardly  attempt  was  made  upon 
the  life  of  this  grand,  yet  simple-minded,  old  man.  On  May 
11,  1878,  a  mere  lad  of  nineteen,  named  Emil  Max  Hordel, 
attempted  to  take  the  life  of  the  Emperor.  Hordel  was  a 
native  of  Leipsic,  and  had  manifested  a  wild  disposition  from 
his  childhood.  As  a  boy  he  had  been  guilty  of  imprudence 
and  suspected  of  dishonesty.  By  trade  he  was  a  tinsmith, 
while  so  far  as  his  political  convictions  went,  he  avowed  him¬ 
self  to  have  been  first  a  socialist,  and  later  on  an  anarchist. 
He  had  repeatedly  made  the  remark  in  public  places,  that  “a 
certain  thick-headed  person  might  be  disposed  of  very  sud¬ 
denly.”  To  the  taking  of  his  photograph  under  police 
supervision,  he  interposed  no  objection.  In  fact,  he  assured 
the  photographer  that  the  time  would  come  when  tens  of  thou¬ 
sands  of  copies  of  his  “false  presentment”  would  be  hawked 
about  the  streets  of  the  German  capital.  As  William  was 
driving  through  that  world-renowned  avenue  of  Berlin  known 
as  “Unter  den  Linden,”  young  Hordel  fired  upon  him,  dis¬ 
charging  two  barrels  of  his  revolver  without  effect.  He  was 
speedily  tried  and  sentenced  to  death,  receiving  his  sentence 
with  a  sneer  of  contempt.  His  execution,  which  was  by 
decapitation,  took  place  in  the  courtyard  of  the  New  Prison  at 
Berlin,  on  Friday,  August  18,  1878. 

Before  punishment  was  meted  out  to  Hordel,  indeed,  only 
three  weeks  after  the  futile  attempt  of  the  youthful  tinsmith, 
the  Emperor  was  fired  upon  from  a  window  near  the  scene  of 
the  former  murderous  assault.  The  would-be  assassin  was 
one  Dr.  Karl  Nobling,  a  man  of  liberal  education  and  consider¬ 
able  scientific  attainments.  The  weapon  employed  was  a 
double-barreled  shotgun,  both  barrels  of  which  were  dis¬ 
charged.  TheEmperor  was  riding  alone  in  the  royal  carriage, 
accompanied  by  a  few  personal  guards.  About  thirty  shots 


232 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


lodged  in  the  person  of  William,  chiefly  in  the  arms  and  back, 
but  his  injuries  were  not  serious.  The  apartments  of  the 
wretch  were  at  once  broken  open.  Nobling  fired  upon  and 
wounded  the  keeper  of  the  hotel,  who  accompanied  the  guards 
in  their  search.  Rather  than  submit  to  arrest  he  shot  himself, 
and  died  from  the  effects  of  his  wound  on  September  ioth, 
following.  The  crime  of  Doctor  Nobling  was  due  solely  to 
political  fanaticism,  as  he  was  clearly  an  entirely  sane  man. 
His  offense  may  be  classed  with  the  murderous  acts  of  the 
Chicago  anarchists,  detailed  in  another  chapter. 


CHAPTER  XIV 


ASSASSINATIONS  IN  AMERICA  — THE  MAFIA 

To  the  credit  of  America  and  her  free  institutions,  few 
attempts  have  ever  been  made  upon  the  lives  of  her  public 
men,  and  yet  two  presidents  of  the  United  States  have  fallen 
at  the  hands  of  assassins. 

On  April  14,  1865,  Abraham  Lincoln,  the  best  beloved  and 
most  gratefully  remembered  of  any  president  since  the  days  of 
Washington,  was  brutally  assassinated  by  John  Wilkes  Booth, 
an  actor,  and  a  member  of  one  of  the  most  famous  families  of 
American  tragedians.  The  death  of  the  “Martyred  Presi¬ 
dent,”  as  Lincoln  is  now  very  generally  called,  occurred  at  the 
close  of  the  long  and  fiercely  contested  civil  war,  and  threw  a 
dark  and  impenetrable  pall  over  the  land,  changing  the  rejoic¬ 
ings  of  millions  of  people  into  deep  and  heart-felt  sorrow. 
On  the  ninth  of  April,  1865,  General  Lee  surrendered  his 
army  to  General  Grant  at  Appomattox  Court  House,  and  the 
war  was  at  an  end.  Mr.  Lincoln  returned  from  Richmond, 
Va.,  the  occupation  of  which  by  the  Federal  troops  on  April 
4th  virtually  ended  the  long  struggle. 

It  is  difficult  to  appreciate  the  feelings  that  must  have 
swayed  the  heart  of  this  truly  great  and  patriotic  man. 
Largely  through  his  efforts,  the  nation  had  been  preserved 
with  its  constitution  intact,  and  without  a  single  star  having 
been  lost  from  its  glorious  flag.  Much  remained,  however,  to 
be  done,  and  no  one  better  appreciated  this  than  Lincoln  him¬ 
self.  The  wounds  of  a  nation  were  still  freshly  bleeding, 
hardly  a  household  in  the  land  but  mourned  the  untimely 
death  of  husband,  father  or  son ;  the  South  was  in  a  state  of 
chaos,  and  must  be  reconstructed.  These  matters  filled  Lin¬ 
coln’s  mind  after  his  return  from  Richmond.  He  had  already 

233 


234 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


suggested  something  of  his  plans,  and  was  anxious  to  begin 
the  work  of  restoring  the  rule  of  law  and  order  throughout  the 
country. 

It  has  often  been  charged  that  the  horrid  conspiracy  that 
cost  the  nation  its  Chief  Magistrate  had  its  origin  with  the 
leaders  of  the  great  Rebellion.  There  were  some  grounds  for 
this  belief  at  the  time,  and  President  Johnson  was  doubtless 
justified  in  the  proclamation  he  issued  on  the  second  day  of 
May,  declaring  that  the  assassination  was  chargeable  to  acts  of 
Jefferson  Davis,  Jacob  Thompson  and  other  officials  of  the  late 
Southern  Confederacy,  and  offering  large  rewards  for  their 
arrest.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  nothing  could  have  happened 
more  disastrous  to  the  interests  of  the  Southern  people  than 
the  death  of  President  Lincoln.  He  had  promised  them  fair 
treatment,  and  the  people  of  the  South  had  learned  that  he 
was  a  man  of  his  word.  On  the  other  hand,  they  had  every 
reason  to  distrust  the  Vice-President,  Andrew  Johnson.  A 
Southern  man  himself,  he  was  regarded  as  a  renegade  to  his 
section,  and  wns  hated  by  every  genuine  secessionist.  As 
military  governor  of  Tennessee  he  had  acted  in  an  arbitrary 
manner,  and  the  South  had  nothing  to  hope  for  at  his  hands. 
The  tragic  death  of  Lincoln  sent  a  thrill  of  dismay  through  the 
breasts  of  those  who  had  lately  been  in  rebellion  against  the 
government.  They  knew  that  the  assassination  would  be 
charged  to  their  account,  and  that  their  political  prospects  had 
been  injured,  if  not  absolutely  blasted.  Looked  at  in  this 
light,  it  seems  certain  that  Lincoln  did  not  fall  at  the  instiga¬ 
tion  of  Southern  men. 

On  that  fatal  14th  of  April,  the  President  was  in  a  happy, 
though  thoughtful,  mood.  At  breakfast,  he  conversed  with 
his  son  Robert;  between  eleven  and  twelve  o’clock,  he 
attended  a  cabinet  meeting,  at  which  General  Grant  was  pres¬ 
ent,  and  all  remarked  his  cheerful  appearance  and  afterwards 
testified  that  he  expressed  the  kindliest  feelings  and  the  most 
liberal  intentions  toward  the  South.  Later  in  the  day,  he 
drove  out  with  Mrs.  Lincoln.  On  that  occasion  he  said  to  his 
wife:  “We  have  had  a  hard  time  together  since  we  came  to 
Washington,  but  now  the  war  is  over,  and  with  God’s  blessing 


ASSASSINATIONS  IN  AMERICA 


235 


upon  us,  we  may  hope  for  four  years  of  happiness,  and  then 
we  will  go  back  to  Illinois,  and  pass  the  remainder  of  our  lives 
in  peace.” 

The  press  had  prominently  announced  that  the  President 
and  General  Grant  would,  that  evening,  attend  Ford’s  Theatre 
in  Washington,  where  the  play  of  “Our  American  Cousin”  was 
to  be  presented.  A  previous  engagement  of  General  Grant 
prevented  his  accompanying  the  President,  and  was,  no  doubt, 
the  means  of  saving  his  life  to  the  nation,  since  it  is  almost 
certain  that  his  death  as  well  as  that  of  Lincoln  had  been 
decreed.  Mr.  Lincoln,  his  wife  and  party  arrived  about  nine 
o’clock,  and  were  received  by  the  immense  audience  with 
every  manifestation  of  delight.  In  the  midst  of  the  play,  a 
shot  rang  out,  and  a  man,  holding  a  bloody  dagger  in  his 
hand,  leaped  from  the  President’s  box  to  the  stage,  shouted 
out  the  motto  of  the  State  of  Virginia,  “Sic  Semper  Tyrannis ” 
— Ever  so  to  tyrants — and  disappeared  behind  the  scene.  The 
blood  upon  the  dagger  was  that  of  Major  Rathbone,  who  was 
one  of  the  President’s  party.  He  had  seized  the  assassin,  who 
cut  him  quite  severely  in  the  arm  and  broke  away.  Mr. 
Lincoln  fell  forward  into  the  arms  of  his  wife.  The  first 
surgeon  to  arrive  announced  the  wound  mortal,  a  bullet  hav¬ 
ing  penetrated  his  brain.  He  was  removed  to  a  house  in  the 
neighborhood,  where  he  died  about  seven  o’clock  the  follow¬ 
ing  morning,  without  having  recovered  consciousness. 

The  assassin  of  President  Lincoln,  and  the  real  head  of  the 
conspiracy,  was  John  Wilkes  Booth,  an  actor  of  ability,  the  son 
of  Junius  Brutus  Booth,  and  the  brother  of  the  late  Edwin 
Booth,  both  of  whom  were  among  the  foremost  of  all  the 
tragedians  of  America.  On  the  same  night  that  the  actor 
accomplished  his  foul  design,  a  desperate  attempt  was  made  to 
take  the  life  of  William  H.  Seward,  Secretary  of  State.  A 
wretch  known  as  Payne,  but  whose  real  name  was  Powell, 
forced  his  way  into  the  house  where  the  secretary  was  confined 
to  his  bed  by  reason  of  injuries  received  by  being  thrown  from 
his  carriage,  and  attacked  Mr.  Seward  in  his  bed,  cutting  and 
stabbing  him  terribly.  His  life  was  only  saved  through  the 
heroic  efforts  of  his  sons  and  daughter  and  a  nurse  named 


236 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


Robinson.  Frederick  Seward,  one  of  the  secretary’s  sons, 
was  struck  a  blow  on  the  head  with  a  pistol  which  fractured 
his  skull  and  rendered  him  insensible. 

In  tragically  leaping  upon  the  stage,  Booth  became 
entangled  in  some  of  the  decorations,  in  consequence  of  which 
he  did  not  alight  fairly  upon  his  feet,  and  a  bone  in  one  of  his 
legs  was  broken.  Notwithstanding  this,  he  made  his  way  to 
the  stage  entrance  of  the  theatre,  where  a  horse  was  in  wait¬ 
ing,  upon  which  he  escaped  from  the  city.  The  assassin 
remained  a  week  in  hiding,  his  fractured  leg  having  been  set 
in  the  meantime  by  Dr.  Mudd.  On  the  21st  of  April,  a  party 
of  soldiers  located  him  in  a  barn,  where  he  had  concealed  him¬ 
self,  together  with  one  of  the  conspirators  named  Herold. 
After  a  number  of  shots  had  been  exchanged,  the  party  fired 
the  barn,  whereupon  Herold  came  out  and  surrendered  him¬ 
self,  but  Booth  refused  to  do  so.  Standing  almost  in  the 
flames,  he  leaned  upon  his  crutch  and  opened  fire  upon  his 
would  be  captors,  whereupon  a  soldier  named  Boston  Corbett 
killed  him  with  a  shot  from  a  revolver,  for  which  act  he  was 
severely  censured,  as  the  orders  were  to  take  Booth  alive.  At 
the  time  of  his  death,  the  assassin  was  but  twenty-six  years 
old. 

A  number  of  persons  were  arrested,  and  evidences  of  a 
deep-laid  plot  to  assassinate,  not  only  the  President  and  secre¬ 
tary  of  state,  but  a  number  of  other  prominent  public  men, 
was  speedily  discovered.  The  conspirators  met  at  the  house 
of  a  Mrs.  Surratt  in  Washington,  where  their  diabolical 
schemes  were  concocted  and  developed.  As  the  result  of  a 
rather  remarkable  trial,  before  a  military  commission,  five 
persons  were  convicted  of  conspiring  to  take  the  life  of  Abra¬ 
ham  Lincoln :  Mrs.  Surratt,  Herold,  Payne,  Alzerodt  and  Dr. 
Mudd.  The  three  first  named  were  executed,  while  the  others 
were  sent  to  the  Dry  Tortugas  for  life,  where  Alzerodt  died 
soon  after ;  Dr.  Mudd  being  ultimately  pardoned. 

There  were  grave  doubts  in  the  minds  of  many  people  as  to 
the  extent  of  Mrs.  Surratt’s  guilt,  and  strong  efforts  were 
made  to  save  her  life,  but  President  Johnson  refused  to  com¬ 
mute  her  sentence,  and  she  died  with  the  others. 


I 


ASSASSINATIONS  IN  AMERICA 


237 


John  Surratt,  the  son  of  Mrs.  Surratt,  and  one  of  the  con¬ 
spirators,  succeeded  in  escaping  from  the  country  and  reaching 
Italy,  where  he  entered  the  Papal  Guards.  Afterwards  he  was 
recognized  by  an  American,  Archbishop  Hughes,  and  sur¬ 
rendered  to  the  Government  of  the  United  States.  Surratt 
was  twice  tried  in  Washington.  The  first  trial  resulted  in  a 
disagreement  of  the  jury,  and  upon  the  second  he  escaped  by 
pleading  the  statute  of  limitations. 

On  Saturday,  July  2,  1881,  the  pistol  of  an  assassin,  for  the 
second  time,  laid  low  a  president  of  the  United  States.  James 
A.  Garfield,  who  had  filled  that  high  position  but  four  months, 
was  shot  in  the  depot  of  the  Baltimore  and  Potomac  Railroad, 
in  the  city  of  Washington.  The  President  was  about  to  leave 
the  capital  to  attend  the  commencement  exercises  of  his  Alma 
Mater,  Williams  College,  at  Williamstown,  Massachusetts,  and 
was  accompanied  by  James  G.  Blaine,  his  secretary  of  state. 
The  assassin,  one  Charles  Julius  Guiteau,  fired  twice  at  Mr. 
Garfield,  the  second  shot  tearing  a  jagged  hole  in  his  side 
from  which  the  blood  fairly  spouted. 

Guiteau  made  an  effort  to  escape,  but  ran  into  the  arms  of 
a  policeman,  who  placed  him  under  arrest.  In  his  pocket  was 
found  the  following  letter : 

“July  2,  1881. 

“To  the  White  House. — The  President’s  tragic  death  was  a 
sad  necessity,  but  it  will  unite  the  Republican  party,  and  save 
the  Republic.  Life  is  a  flimsy  dream,  and  it  matters  little 
when  one  goes.  A  human  lif6  is  of  small  value.  During  the 
war  thousands  of  brave  boys  went  down  without  a  tear. 

“I  presume  the  President  was  a  Christian,  and  that  he  will 
be  happier  in  Paradise  than  here.  It  will  be  no  worse  for 
Mrs.  Garfield,  dear  soul,  to  part  with  her  husband  this  way 
than  by  natural  death.  He  is  liable  to  go  at  any  time,  any¬ 
way.  I  had  no  ill-will  toward  the  President.  His  death  was 
a  political  necessity. 

“I  am  a  lawyer,  a  theologian,  and  a  politician.  I  am  a 
Stalwart  of  the  Stalwarts.  I  was  with  General  Grant  and  the 
rest  of  our  men,  in  New  York,  during  the  canvass.  I  have 
some  papers  for  the  press,  which  I  shall  leave  with  Byron 
Andrews,  and  his  co-journalists,  at  1420  New  York  Avenue, 
where  all  the  reporters  can  see  them.  I  am  going  to  the  jail. 

“Charles  Guiteau.” 


238 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


Some  time  after  the  murder,  District- Attorney  Corkhill, 
after  a  thorough  investigation,  published  a  statement  which  is 
a  very  accurate  account  of  the  movements  of  the  assassin  from 
the  day  he  reached  Washington  down  to  the  time  of  the  mur¬ 
derous  assault.  It  is  given  here  entire: 

“The  interest  felt  by  the  public  in  the  details  of  the 
assassination,  and  the  many  stories  published,  justify  me  in 
stating  that  the  following  is  a  correct  and  accurate  statement 
concerning  the  points  to  which  reference  has  been  made :  The 
assassin,  Charles  Guiteau,  came  to  Washington  City  on  Sun¬ 
day  evening,  March  6,  1881,  and  stopped  at  the  Ebbitt  House, 
remaining  only  one  day.  He  then  secured  a  room  in  another 
part  of  the  city,  and  had  boarded  and  roomed  at  various 
places,  the  full  details  of  which  I  have.  On  Wednesday,  May 
18,  1881,  the  assassin  determined  to  murder  the  President. 
He  had  neither  money  nor  pistol  at  the  time.  About  the  last 
of  May  he  went  into  O’Meara’s  store,  corner  of  Fifteenth  and 
F.  streets,  this  city,  and  examined  some  pistols,  asking  for  the 
largest  calibre.  He  was  shown  two  similar  in  calibre,  and 
only  different  in  price.  On  Wednesday,  June  8th,  he  pur¬ 
chased  a  pistol  for  which  he  paid  $10,  he  having,  in  the  mean-  * 
time,  borrowed  $15  of  a  gentleman  in  this  city,  on  the  plea 
that  he  wanted  to  pay  his  board  bill.  On  the  same  evening, 
about  seven  o’clock,  he  took  the  pistol  and  went  to  the  foot  of 
Seventeenth  Street,  and  practiced  firing  at  a  board,  firing  ten 
shots.  He  then  returned  to  his  boarding-house  and  wiped  the 
pistol  dry,  wrapped  it  in  his  coat,  and  waited  his  opportunity. 
On  Sunday  morning,  June  15th,  he  was  sitting  in  Lafayette 
Park,  and  saw  the  President  leave  for  the  Christian  Church  on 
Vermont  Avenue,  and  he  at  once  returned  to  his  room, 
obtained  his  pistol,  put  it  in  his  pocket,  and  followed  the 
President  to  church.  He  entered  the  church,  but  found  he 
could  not  kill  him  there  without  danger  of  killing  some  one 
else.  He  noticed  that  the  President  sat  near  a  window. 
After  church  he  made  an  examination  of  the  window,  and 
found  he  could  reach  it  without  any  trouble,  and  that 
from  this  point  he  could  shoot  the  President  through  the  head 
without  killing  any  one  else.  The  following  Wednesday,  he 


ASSASSINATIONS  IN  AMERICA 


239 


went  to  church,  examined  the  location  and  the  window,  and 
became  satisfied  he  could  accomplish  his  purpose.  He 
determined  to  make  the  attempt  at  the  church  the  following 
Sunday. 

“Learning  from  the  papers  that  the  President  would  leave 
the  city  on  Saturday,  the  18th  of  June,  with  Mrs.  Garfield,  for 
Long  Branch,  he  decided  to  meet  him  at  the  depot.  He  left 
his  boarding-house  about  five  o’clock  Saturday  morning,  June 
1 8th,  and  went  down  to  the  river  at  the  foot  of  Seventeenth 
Street,  and  fired  five  shots  to  practice  his  aim,  and  be  certain 
his  pistol  was  in  good  order.  He  then  went  to  the  depot,  with 
his  pistol  ready,  when  the  presidential  party  entered.  He 
says  Mrs.  Garfield  looked  so  frail  and  weak  that  he  had  not  the 
heart  to  shoot  the  President  in  her  presence,  and,  as  he  knew 
he  would  have  another  opportunity,  he  left  the  depot.  On 
Wednesday  evening,  the  President  and  his  son,  and,  I  think, 
United  States  Marshal  Henry,  went  out  for  a  ride.  The 
assassin  took  his  pistol  and  followed  them,  and  watched  them 
for  some  time,  in  hopes  the  carriage  would  stop,  but  no  oppor¬ 
tunity  was  given.  On  Friday  evening,  July  ist,  he  was  sitting 
on  the  seat  in  the  park  opposite  the  White  House,  when  he 
saw  the  President  come  out  alone.  He  followed  him  down  the 
avenue  to  Fifteenth  Street,  and  then  kept  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  street  upon  Fifteenth,  until  the  President  entered  the 
residence  of  Secretary  Blaine.  He  waited  at  the  corner  of 
Fifteenth  and  H.  streets  for  some  time,  and  then,  as  he  was 
afraid  he  would  attract  attention,  he  went  into  the  alley  in 
the  rear  of  Mr.  Morton’s  residence,  examined  his  pistol  and 
waited.  The  President  and  Secretary  Blaine  came  out 
together,  and  he  followed  over  to  the  gate  of  the  White 
House,  but  could  get  no  opportunity  to  use  his  weapon.  On 
the  morning  of  Saturday,  July  2d,  he  breakfasted  at  the  Riggs 
House  about  seven  o’clock.  He  then  walked  up  into  the  park 
and  rode  to  Sixth  Street,  got  out  and  went  into  the  depot,  and 
loitered  around  there ;  had  his  shoes  blacked ;  engaged  a  hack- 
man  for  two  dollars  to  take  him  to  the  jail;  went  into  the 
water-closet  and  took  his  pistol  out  of  his  hip-pocket,  and 
unwrapped  the  paper  from  around  it,  which  he  had  put  there 


240 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


for  the  purpose  of  preventing  the  perspiration  from  the  body 
dampening  the  powder;  examined  his  pistol;  carefully  tried 
the  trigger,  and  then  returned  and  took  a  seat  in  the  ladies’ 
waiting  room,  and,  as  soon  as  the  President  entered,  advanced 
behind  him  and  fired  two  shots. 

“These  facts,  I  think,  can  be  relied  upon  as  accurate,  and 
I  give  them  to  the  public  to  contradict  certain  false  rumors  in 
connection  with  the  most  atrocious  of  atrocious  crimes.” 

After  languishing  in  great  anguish  for  nearly  three  months, 
President  Garfield  died  September  19,  1881,  at  Elberon,  N.  J. 
On  Friday,  October  14,  1881,  Guiteau  was  arraigned  on  the 
charge  of  having  murdered  him.  He  was  quite  ably  defended 
by  his  sister’s  husband,  George  Scoville,  of  the  Chicago  bar, 
the  defense  being  insanity.  The  prisoner  insisted  on  con¬ 
ducting  his  own  case,  and  very  frequently  interrupted  the  pro¬ 
ceedings  of  the  court,  which  ruled  that  he  could  not  do  so. 
His  antics  and  tirades  were  probably  indulged  in  to  sustain  his 
defense  of  insanity,  although  he  persisted  that  he  was  entirely 
sane,  and  that  the  killing  of  the  President  was  necessary  for 
the  good  of  the  country. 

A  large  amount  of  expert  medical  testimony  was  intro¬ 
duced,  which,  as  is  usually  the  case,  was  of  a  highly  contra¬ 
dictory  character.  Guiteau  was  found  guilty,  and  on  February 
4,  1882,  was  sentenced  to  be  hanged  on  the  30th  of  the  follow¬ 
ing  June.  He  was  executed  on  that  day,  to  the  great  satisfac¬ 
tion  of  nearly  every  citizen  of  the  United  States. 

Guiteau  was  an  intense  egotist,  and  conceived  a  hatred  for 
President  Garfield,  because  certain  services  that  he  claimed  to 
have  rendered  during  the  campaign  preceding  the  election 
were  not  recognized.  He  was  undoubtedly  unbalanced  in 
some  regards,  but  there  can  be  no  doubt  but  what  he  knew  the 
difference  between  right  and  wrong,  and  fully  realized  the 
enormity  of  his  offense.  It  seems  probable  that  the  moving 
cause  to  his  awful  crime  was  a  morbid  desire  for  notoriety, 
coupled,  perhaps,  with  an  impulse  to  take  life. 

In  1893  the  mayor  of  the  city  of  Chicago,  Carter  H.  Har¬ 
rison,  was  murdered  in  much  the  same  manner  as  President 
Garfield  was  assassinated,  and  from  much  the  same  cause. 


ASSASSINATIONS  IN  AMERICA  241 

While  serving  his  fifth  term  as  mayor,  Harrison  was  shot  down 
in  his  residence,  on  the  evening  of  October  30,  1893,  by  one 
Patrick  Eugene  Prendergast.  Mayor  Harrison  was  very 
democratic  in  his  habits,  and  was  always  accessible  to  callers, 
of  whatever  condition  in  life.  Prendergast  was  shown  into 
the  library,  and  almost  immediately  opened  fire  upon  his 
victim.  The  mayor  fell  desperately  wounded  to  the  floor,  and 
expired  almost  immediately.  The  assassin  fled  from  the 
house,  but  subsequently  surrendered  himself  to  the  police. 

As  in  the  case  of  Guiteau,  the  defense  offered  for  Prender¬ 
gast  was  that  of  insanity.  Between  the  two  there  were  not 
wanting  some  striking  points  of  resemblance;  neither  had  any 
real  motive  for  the  perpetration  of  his  crime,  while  each  pre¬ 
tended  that  he  had  been  prompted  to  the  act  because  of  the 
failure  of  the  victim  to  keep  certain  promises  of  political 
preferment.  Both  were  possessd  of  most  inordinate  egotism, 
and,  in  a  certain  sense,  were  lacking  in  understanding.  Yet 
they  unquestionably  realized  the  extent  of  their  wrong¬ 
doing,  and,  in  the  opinion  of  most  candid  and  humane  people, 
were  rightly  condemned.  Prendergast  was  convicted  and 
promptly  executed. 

In  no  country  in  the  world,  perhaps,  is  there  a  more  strik¬ 
ing  contrast  between  the  moral  and  material  aspects  than  in 
the  island  of  Sicily.  Probably  no  Italian  city  presents  a  more 
charming  picture  to  the  eye  of  a  traveler  than  does  Palermo, 
with  its  attractive  environments  and  its  beautiful  harbor, 
which  has  been  poetically  named  the  “Golden  Shell.”  The 
fertile  soil  surrounding  this  picturesque  old  town  slopes  gently 
from  the  mountains  to  the  sea,  and  affords  the  traveler  a  rare 
glimpse  of  natural  beauty,  heightened  by  the  cultivation  which 
has  been  bestowed  upon  the  land  by  man.  Lemon  and  orange 
groves,  interspersed  with  orchards  of  almonds  and  fig  trees, 
stretch  out  in  every  direction,  and  the  air  is  laden  with 
Nature’s  perfumes.  To  a  stranger  the  scene  appears  like  a 
terrestrial  paradise,  and  he  finds  it  difficult  to  believe  that  into 
such  a  garden  any  serpent  of  evil  could  obtain  admission. 

Yet,  a  traveler  cannot  be  many  days  in  Palermo  without 
being  startled  by  hearing  innumerable  tales  of  crimes  of 


242 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


violence.  The  citizens  point  out  to  him  localities  where  mur¬ 
ders  have  been  committed  for  the  most  trivial  causes,  and  his 
dreams  are  apt  to  be  haunted  by  visions  of  red-handed  assas¬ 
sins  or  their  struggling-  victims.  In  fact,  Sicily  is  better 
known  to  the  world  at  large  as  the  home  of  murderers  than  for 
the  luxuriance  of  its  vegetation  or  the  natural  beauty  of  the 
island  itself. 

There  is  no  inherent  reason  why  this  state  of  affairs  should 
exist.  Nature  has  rendered  it  easy  for  the  Sicilian  to  obtain  a 
livelihood.  Along  the  maritime  belt  which  stretches  from 
Palermo  to  Messina  the  growth  of  fruit  is  easy  and  attended  by 
large  profits.  An  Italian  writer  of  some  twenty  years  ago, 
Senor  Francetti,  is  authority  for  the  statement  that  one  and 
one-half  acres  placed  under  cultivation  as  a  lemon  grove  will, 
with  proper  care,  yield  an  annual  profit  of  five  hundred  dollars. 
Figs,  than  which  few  fruits  are  more  refreshing,  hang  like 
berries  along  our  hedge-rows.  In  January  the  black  twigs  of 
the  almond  trees  are  transformed  into  blooming  sprays  of 
white,  which  call  to  the  mind  the  legend  of  St.  Joseph’s  rod. 
It  is  true,  however,  that  the  interior  of  the  island  affords  a 
striking  contrast  to  this  garden  spot.  There  trees  are  few, 
and  houses  are  sometimes  leagues  apart.  But  the  natives,  as 
a  rule,  live  near  the  coast  where  nature  smiles  upon  them, 
and,  as  it  were,  would  seem  to  invite  them  to  a  life  of  peace. 
But  there  are  moral  causes  at  work  more  potent  than  the 
influence  of  nature  or  the  teachings  of  religion,  nor  do  those 
who  may  be  supposed  best  qualified  to  judge  predict  any 
change  for  the  better  in  the  island  of  Sicily  for  many  years  to 
come.  In  the  northeastern  corner  of  the  island  a  majority  of 
the  inhabitants  are  the  descendants  of  the  Arab  and  African 
races,  and  this  admixture  of  blood  does  not  produce  people  apt 
to  entertain  any  particular  repugnance  to  the  taking  of  human 
life.  Moreover,  the  country  abounds  with  the  descendants  of 
the  many  bravos  whom  the  nobles  of  Palermo  once  kept  in 
their  trains.  This  class  probably  cherished  family  traditions 
of  violence  and  assassination.  Palermo,  the  capital,  and  its 
vicinity,  have  been  the  particular  theatre  of  disturbances.  It 
has  been  said  that  the  metropolis  of  a  country  may  be 


THE  MAFIA 


243 


regarded  as  the  very  personification  of  its  prevailing  spirit, 
since  there  the  moral  tendencies  of  the  people  concentrate. 
Conceding  the  truth  of  this  theory,  it  argues  poorly  for  the 
morality  of  the  Sicilians  as  a  whole,  that  the  picturesque  city 
of  Palermo  should  be  the  chief  seat  of  the  blood-thirsty  order 
known  as  “The  Mafia.”  It  is  there,  too,  that  the  hereditary 
hatreds  of  any  standing  vendetta  of  the  middle  ages  are  yet 
rife.  Volumes  might  be  filled  with  tales  of  the  tragedies  that 
have  occurred  during  the  past  few  years  among  these  modern 
Montagues  and  Capulets.  Not  many  years  ago,  the  breaking 
out  of  a  feud  between  two  rival  families  in  a  little  village  in 
the  district  of  Palermo,  with  the  accompanying  assassination 
of  one  of  the  chiefs  of  the  hostile  houses,  brought  about  almost 
a  civil  war,  and  the  sanguinary  feud  resulted  in  the  perpetra¬ 
tion  of  not  less  than  thirty-five  homicides  in  a  single  year. 
The  peasants  point  out  the  localities  of  these  crimes  with  an 
indifference  born  of  familiarity.  “Under  this  tree,”  one  is 
told,  “a  poor  bailiff  was  assassinated  because  he  had  been  pre¬ 
ferred  by  his  employer  to  another  applicant  endorsed  by  one 
of  the  formidable  associations  of  murderers  with  which  the 
island  abounded.”  “Where  that  road  winds  around  the  base 
of  the  vine-clad  hill,  the  proprietor  of  the  estate  received  the 
startling  intimation  that  he  had  shown  a  contumacious  spirit. 
A  bullet  was  fired  through  his  hat  by  a  desperado  concealed 
behind  the  rocks.”  A  little  further  along  the  road,  perhaps, 
is  indicated  a  spot  where  a  young  man  was  shot  dead  on  the 
highway.  What  had  been  his  offense?  He  had  been  prominent 
in  promoting  works  of  public  benefit,  and  was  becoming  too 
popular  for  »the  welfare  of  those  in  authority.  Naturally 
enough,  the  American  or  average  European,  listening  to  these 
tales,  is  more  or  less  incredulous.  Their  repetition,  however, 
joined  to  his  own  knowledge  of  the  history  of  Sicily  derived 
from  other  sources,  compels  him  to  believe  in  their  truth.  It 
is  not  easy  for  the  subject  of  any  civilized  power,  and,  least  of 
all,  for  the  citizen  of  any  thoroughly  constituted  republic,  to 
suppose  that  assassination  could  be  rife  in  one  of  the  provinces 
of  Italy  if  the  Italian  government  were  strong  enough  to 
repress  it.  The  theory  upon  which  papal  domination  was 


244 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


overturned  was  that  all  government  derives  its  just  powers 
from  the  consent  of  the  governed.  Should  the  same  principle 
be  applied  in  its  legitimate  operation  to  the  island  of  Sicily,  it 
would  be  difficult  to  perceive  under  what  theory  the  reigning 
monarch  of  Italy  claimed  ascendency  over  what  has  been,  not 
inaptly,  called  the  very  garden  of  the  kingdom.  The  truth  is, 
that  the  moral  tone  of  the  Sicilian  is  so  low  that  the  vendetta 
is  considered  legitimate,  and  the  decrees  of  secret  societies 
banded  together  for  the  purpose  of  assassination,  are  regarded 
as  of  much  more  binding  force  and  effect  than  are  the  judicial 
findings  of  the  courts  of  law. 

Anglo-Saxon  and  Teuton  point  to  the  middle  classes  as  the 
mainstay  and  the  fundamental  prop  of  the  government.  In 
vSicily  the  middle  class  is,  to  say  the  least,  very  small,  and  its 
sympathies  appear  to  have  been,  and  to  be,  rather  with  the 
wrong-doers  than  with  the  officers  of  the  law.  The  repre¬ 
sentatives  of  the  Italian  government  upon  the  island  find 
themselves  seriously  handicapped  by  the  prevalence  of  this 
sympathy.  In  fact,  if  all  seeming  authentic  reports  are  to  be 
credited,  they  appear  to  be  in  doubt  as  to  the  limit  of  their 
authority,  to  be  of  the  opinion  that  they  exercise  power  only 
upon  the  sufferance  of  the  islanders.  The  only  exercise  of 
authority  with  which  they  can  be  justly  charged  is  to  be  found 
in  spasmodic  raids  upon  detached  bands  of  assassins  as  to 
whose  safety  the  leaders  have  little  care.  The  Sicilian  is 
naturally  cunning.  From  his  Greek  ancestors  he  inherits  a 
gift  of  diplomacy,  while  from  his  Saracen  forefathers  he  derives 
the  art  of  duplicity.  Gifted  with  such  a  combination  of  facul¬ 
ties  and  supported  by  the  moral  sense  of  the  community,  he  is 
more  than  a  match  for  the  slow-going,  easily-persuaded  repre¬ 
sentative  of  the  government.  Should  the  local  administration 
undertake  to  advance  investigation  through  invoking  the  aid 
of  local  celebrities,  he  is  more  than  likely  to  find  before  he  has 
completed  his  inquiry  that  he  has  been  made  merely  an 
unreasoning  tool  for  the  better  accomplishment  of  nefarious 
ends. 

In  no  portion  of  Sicily  is  the  organization  known  as  “The 
Mafia”  stronger  than  in  Palermo.  It  must  be  admitted,  how- 


THE  MAFIA 


245 


ever,  that  as  to  the  precise  character  of  this  organization  com¬ 
paratively  little  information  of  a  positively  reliable  character 
can  be  obtained.  Many  native  Sicilians  deny  that  it  exists  as 
an  order,  and  allege  that  there  is  no  stronger  bond  of  union 
between  the  various  societies  upon  the  island  than  there  was 
among  the  different  bands  of  robbers  which  once  made  the 
crossing  of  Hounslow  Heath  a  task  of  no  little  peril.  On  the 
other  hand,  some  of  those  who  profess  to  have  carefully 
investigated  the  workings  of  the  “Mafia”  assert  that  the 
organization  should  be  regarded  as  a  unit,  however  multiform 
may  be  the  parts  under  which  it  presents  itself.  These 
investigators  claim  to  have  discovered  positive  proof  that  the 
movements  and  policy  of  the  entire  body  are  under  the  control 
of,  and  directed  by,  a  central  authority.  They  also  assert  that 
many  members  of  the  order  at  Palermo  are  men  of  substance, 
of  social  standing,  and  of  no  little  political  influence.  These 
leaders,  it  is  said,  display  in  the  management  of  the  society’s 
affairs  the  rarest  tact  and  the  soundest  judgment.  It  is  they 
who  select  the  subjects  on  whom  is  to  be  visited  the  wrath  of 
the  organization ;  it  is  they  who  determine  to  what  extent  the 
manifestations  of  the  society’s  displeasure  shall  be  made; 
whether  by  a  threatening  letter,  a  “shot  of  persuasion,”  or 
absolute  murder.  It  is  this  social  power,  so  it  is  said,  which 
determines  whether  operations  shall  be  directed  against  the 
person,  or  only  against  the  property,  or  whether  terror  must 
be  inspired  by  an  increased  ferocity.  It  is  also  asserted,  and 
not  without  some  show  of  plausibility,  that  the  directorate  of 
the  Mafia  manage  and  maintain,  in  some  way,  a  direct  influ¬ 
ence  over  the  government  at  Rome,  where  their  agents  suc¬ 
ceed,  by  intrigue,  in  securing  the  removal  of  obnoxious 
officials  and  the  appointment  of  those  who  may  be  manipu¬ 
lated  by  the  organization. 

If  these  allegations  be  well  founded,  the  condition  of  affairs 
in  Sicily  is  one  not  readily  understood  by  the  mind  of  the 
average  man  who  has  been  reared  in  a  country  where  civiliza¬ 
tion,  if  not  religion,  inspires  respect  for  the  constitutional 
authority.  Yet,  in  this  island,  whose  shores  are  washed  by 
the  warm  and  limpid  waters  of  the  Mediterranean,  and  whose 


246 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


coast  is  kissed  by  the  semi-tropical  sun,  popular  sentiment 
abhors  any  resort  to  courts  of  law,  while  sanctioning  and 
applauding  the  exercise  of  personal  vengeance.  Were  it  not 
for  the  existence  of  this  sentiment  in  the  community  at  large, 
the  Mafia  would  find  it  impossible  to  prosper,  even  if  it  were 
not  exterminated.  The  prevailing  idea  is  that  to  invoke  the 
aid  of  the  courts,  is  the  one  crowning  disgrace,  the  single 
unpardonable  sin,  which  can  be  laid  at  the  door  of  a  Sicilian. 
Many  are  the  poor  workingmen  of  Palermo  who  have  ended 
their  lives  in  public  hospitals,  wounded  in  street  brawls,  who 
have  passed  into  eternity  with  their  lips  sealed  as  to  the  names 
of  their  assailants,  thus  virtually  becoming  accessory  after  the 
fact  to  their  own  murders. 

A  somewhat  remarkable  illustration  of  the  prevalence  of 
this  sentimental  principle  occurred  a  few  years  ago.  A  noble¬ 
man  of  Palermo,  riding  along  the  highway,  was  made  the 
target  for  a  fusillade  of  bullets  from  twelve  or  fourteen  mus¬ 
kets,  discharged  from  behind  a  stone  wall.  None  of  the  shots 
happened  to  take  effect,  and  no  complaint  was  ever  made  by 
the  nobleman  to  any  magistrate,  yet  circumstances  pointed 
very  clearly  to  the  identity  of  his  would-be  assassins,  and 
within  ten  days  each  and  all  of  them  had  perished  at  the  hands 
of  hired  assassins.  Indeed,  it  is  this  hiring  of  assassins  which 
renders  the  operations  of  the  Mafia  at  once  more  despicable 
and  more  dangerous.  At  the  head  of  the  order  stands  a  man 
of  wealth,  of  position  and  of  influence.  At  the  foot  are  the 
hired  bravos,  men  of  the  criminal  class,  whose  lives  are 
usually  already  forfeited  to  justice,  and  who  are  insured  of 
protection  against  the  execution  of  the  law  upon  condition 
that  they  prove  faithful  to  their  patrons. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  are  those  who  have  devoted  no 
little  attention  to  the  investigation  of  the  question,  who  say 
that  the  Mafia,  as  an  integral  unit,  has  no  existence.  That  the 
term  is  applied,  in  a  collective  sort  of  way,  to  cover  all  associa¬ 
tions,  in  whatever  part  of  Sicily  they  may  be  located,  which 
may  look  for  the  accomplishment  of  a  certain  end  and  use 
assassination  as  a  means  for  its  attainment.  Thus,  according 
to  those  writers,  one  band  may  have  for  its  aim  the  manipula- 


THE  MAFIA 


247 


tion  of  the  ballot-box;  another  the  control  of  the  sale  and 
charge  of  the  crown  lands;  and  a  third  the  influencing  of  the 
apportionment  of  contracts  for  public  works,  and  so  on. 
Should  these  societies  be  able  to  accomplish  the  objects  for 
which  they  were  respectively  organized  through  legitimate 
agencies,  well  and  good ;  if  not,  resort  is  had  to  the  bullet  or 
the  dagger.  Nor,  so  these  investigators  assert,  is  any  secret 
made  as  to  the  character  of  the  arguments  to  be  ultimately 
employed. 

In  the  city  of  Palermo  men  may  be  seen  going  about  the 
streets  with  swaggering  gait,  a  curt  mode  of  speech,  and  wear¬ 
ing  rakish-looking  hats  and  long  locks  of  hair,  somewhat  after 
the  fashion  of  the  old-time  bravos;  these  are  ordinarily  sup¬ 
posed  to  be  either  members  of  or  in  the  employ  of  the  Mafia. 
These  are  they  who  stand  behind  the  ballot-box  and  dictate 
the  returns  of  the  election.  It  is  the  villains  of  this  stamp 
who  crowd  themselves  in  the  rear  of  a  public  auctioneer  and 
fix  alike  the  price  of  the  article  sold  and  the  name  of  the 
buyer.  The  people  well  know  that  they  are  being  terrorized, 
yet  so  entire  is  the  perversion  of  morals,  so  great  the  dread  of 
the  power  of  the  society,  and  so  abhorrent  to  the  Sicilian 
mind  is  an  appeal  to  the  courts,  that  they  tamely  submit. 

Within  a  comparatively  few  years  two  of  these  organiza¬ 
tions  have  been  exposed  and  condemned,  but  as  yet  it  is  not 
clear  that  they  have  been  exterminated.  The  first,  known  as 
the  “Mulini,  ”  was  ostensibly  an  association  of  millers,  which 
pretended  to  have  for  its  object  the  facilitation  of  the  collec¬ 
tion  of  the  grist  tax.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  “true  inward¬ 
ness”  of  the  society  was  the  establishment  of  a  monopoly  in 
flour,  in  order  that  the  price  of  that  commodity  might  be 
forced  up  to  an  artificially  high  point.  The  organization 
proved  eminently  successful,  and  the  people  of  Palermo,  who, 
in  times  past,  had  risen  in  clamorous  sedition  because  of  the 
high  price  of  bread,  withdrew  their  support  from  the  author¬ 
ities  only  for  attempting  to  break  up  what  was  virtually  an 
association  for  the  oppression  of  the  poor.  These  circum¬ 
stances  emphasized  the  fact  before  set  forth,  that  the  people 
of  Sicily  regarded  nothing  so  disgraceful  as  an  appeal  to  the 


248 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


courts  for  protection.  The  second  of  these  societies  was  that 
of  the  “Posa,  ”  closely  connected  with  the  former.  Its  avowed 
object  was  the  promotion  of  mutual  assistance  among  work¬ 
men  employed  in  mills  and  among  the  carters  engaged  in 
carrying  the  corn.  Its  real  purpose  was  far  different.  It 
found  no  difficulty  in  levying  a  tax  upon  master-millers  and 
corn.  From  the  imposition  brokers  had  derived  a  steady, 
well-assured  income,  Its  sinews  of  war  thus  strengthened,  it 
found  itself  able  to  undertake,  with  great  ardor,  its  task  of 
regulating  all  sorts  and  descriptions  of  business,  whether 
political,  commercial,  or  social.  Did  a  proprietor  desire  an 
attendant  for  an  orange  or  an  olive  grove,  the  Posa  dictated 
who  should  be  the  beneficiary  of  the  proposed  position.  Was 
a  vineyard  to  be  leased  upon  the  slope  of  the  mountains 
overlooking  the  “Golden  Shell,”  not  until  the  consent  of  this 
order  had  been  obtained  did  the  owner  dare  to  enter  into 
arrangements  for  its  cultivation.  Indeed,  this  society  even 
assumed  the  role  of  peacemakers,  composing  difficulties  in 
families  and  procuring  pensions  for  indigent  scions  and  poor 
relatives  of  rich  houses.  Should  the  demand  of  the  order  not 
be  complied  with,  the  services  of  the  hired  assassin  were  at 
once  brought  into  requisition.  This  fact  was  so  well  known 
that  the  mere  preferment  of  a  request  known  to  have  come 
from  the  organization  was  almost  as  effectual  as  was  the  “dead 
line”  at  Andersonville ;  an  almost  impregnable  wall. 

From  what  has  been  said  some  idea  may  be  gleaned  of  the 
nature  and  objects  of  an  organization  which  is  known  and 
dreaded  in  every  community  of  which  the  swarthy  children  of 
sunny  Italy  form  any  considerable  percentage.  The  commis¬ 
sion  of  open  crime  is  rarely  necessary.  The  power  of  intrigue 
inherent  in  the  association  itself  is  so  well  known  and  so  thor¬ 
oughly  dreaded  that  a  simple  behest,  well  authenticated,  is 
usually  sufficient  to  terrorize  the  timid.  The  recalcitrant  well 
know  that  persistence  in  the  refusal  to  obey  such  a  command 
means  the  shedding  of  blood  by  the  unswerving  hand  of  an 
unscrupulous  assassin. 

The  Italian  government  has  been  assailed  because  of  its 
seeming  indifference  to  the  condition  of  affairs  in  Sicily.  It 


THE  MAFIA 


249 


has  also  been  accused  of  doing  little  or  nothing  in  the  way  of 
the  amelioration  of  the  condition  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
island.  It  should  be  remembered,  however,  that  behind  and 
underlying  the  administration  of  all  law  must  be  the  moral 
force  which  emanates  from  the  people  among  whom  the  law 
is  enforced.  As  has  been  said,  courts  of  justice  in  Sicily  find 
themselves  hampered  by  the  public  sentiment  which  exists  in 
nearly  if  not  quite  every  quarter  of  the  island.  Only  in  rare 
cases  will  a  Sicilian  give  information  which  may  lead  to  the 
capture  of  a  delinquent.  To  denounce  a  criminal  to  public 
justice  is  regarded  in  very  much  the  same  light  as  would  have 
been,  in  the  eighteenth  century,  the  offer  of  a  challenge  to  the 
police.  It  is  with  the  utmost  difficulty  that  juries  can  be 
induced  to  convict,  and  a  verdict  of  acquittal  is  made  all  the 
more  easy  through  the  absence  of  witnesses,  who  can  very  sel¬ 
dom  be  induced  to  testify.  Should  ever  an  inoffensive  wayfarer 
be  assassinated,  the  moment  the  judicial  investigation  of  the 
crime  is  begun  the  weapons,  once  reeking  with  the  blood  of 
the  victim,  are  either  buried  or  hidden,  and  eye-witnesses 
standing  near  the  scene  of  the  perpetration  of  the  crime,  have 
been  known  to  lose  at  once  the  sense  of  sight  and  hearing, 
while  their  memory  is  usually  hopelessly  at  fault.  The 
government  finds  itself  compelled  to  pursue  them  in  detail, 
and  its  efforts  at  their  apprehension  usually  prove  futile.  It  is 
hopeless  to  attempt  to  stamp  out  crime  in  this  manner.  For 
centuries  Sicily  has  been  the  theatre  of  nearly  every  descrip¬ 
tion  of  crimes  of  violence,  and  at  least  a  century  of  education 
must  pass  before  public  sentiment  can  be  so  far  aroused  and 
quickened  into  action  as  to  render  the  commission  of  this 
description  of  criminality  impossible  to  the  people. 

The  recollection  of  the  shooting  of  certain  Italian  mur¬ 
derers  by  a  mob  in  the  Parish  prison  at  New  Orleans  in  1891  is 
too  fresh  in  the  public  mind  to  call  for  especial  narration. 
The  affair,  as  will  be  remembered,  came  near  involving  the 
United  States  in  more  or  less  serious  complications  with  Italy, 
from  which  our  government  was  happily  extricated  through 
the  astute  diplomacy  of  James  G.  Blaine,  then  secretary  of 
state.  It  was  asserted  by  the  people  of  New  Orleans,  and 


* 


250 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


generally  believed  throughout  the  country,  that  the  prisoners 
who  were  killed  in  the  Parish  prison  were  members  of  the 
notorious  order  of  the  Mafia,  and  that  the  crime  with  which 
they  were  charged  had  been  committed  under  instructions 
from  the  chiefs  of  that  organization  in  the  metropolis  of 
Louisiana ,  and  in  pursuance  of  a  settled  and  well-defined 
policy  of  assassination. 

In  this  connection  it  is  interesting  to  quote  from  Mr.  St. 
John  Brenon,  an  Irish  writer  of  some  note,  who  accompanied 
Gen.  Philip  Sheridan  during  the  latter’s  visit  to  Italy  in  1881, 
during  which  trip  he  acted  as  the  general’s  interpreter.  After 
General  Sheridan’s  return  to  the  United  States,  Mr.  Brenon 
remained  in  Italy  for  several  years,  devoting  considerable 
time  to  the  study  of  the  nature  and  workings  of  the  secret 
criminal  societies  of  the  Italian  peninsula.  He  is  of  the 
opinion  that  the  government  has  succeeded  in  giving  to 
these  organizations  their  death-blow,  even  if  they  have  not 
been  virtually  broken  up.  Mr.  Brenon  says: 

“In  lynching  the  Mafia  ruffians  the  New  Orleans  people 
took  the  only  course  open  to  them  if  they  wished  to  rid  the 
city  of  this  murderous  gang.  Italy  treated  them  in  even  a 
worse  manner.  I  saw  them  shot  down  on  the  streets  of  Sicily 
like  mad  dogs;  dozens  of  them  at  a  time.  Their  gang  was 
absolutely  exiled  from  Italy,  and  took  refuge  in  America.  I 
have  heard  from  an  official  in  Italy,  who  is  in  a  position  to 
know,  that  the  Mafia  gang  is  quite  as  powerful  in  New  York 
as  it  is  in  New  Orleans.  Under  Bourbon  rule  this  criminal 
society  originally  flourished  in  Sicily.  It  was  partially  sup¬ 
pressed,  or  at  all  events  its  baneful  influences  weakened,  in 
Palermo  in  i860,  when  Garibaldi  took  the  administration  of 
the  city,  but  it  reassumed  such  dangerous  proportions  in  the 
island  in  1866,  that  the  Italian  government  sought  by  every 
means  possible  to  root  it  out  of  the  country.  In  this  endeavor 
it  was  baffled  for  years,  but  finally,  by  adopting  the  severest 
repressive  measures,  to  which  the  New  Orleans  episode  is 
nothing,  it  managed  to  make  it  impossible  for  the  Mafia  to 
remain  any  longer  on  the  island.  They  migrated  in  large 
numbers  to  New  Orleans  and  New  York,  This  was  not 


THE  MAFIA 


251 


accomplished  without  heroic  public  effort.  The  Mafia  had 
powerful  political  pressure  at  its  command,  which  made  them 
secure  for  years. 

“I  must  give  you  an  idea  of  what  the  Mafia  really  is. 
Many  nobles  of  the  wealthiest  families  of  Sicily  were  members 
of  it — some  from  sympathy,  others  from  fear.  It  differed 
from  the  Camora  society  in  the  fact  that  it  has  been  always 
leagued  with  brigandage.  For  that  reason  its  existence  was  to 
defy  the  law  and  to  despise  the  judiciary  of  the  country.  The 
Mafia  controlled  elections,  boycotted  when  it  was  in  a  merci¬ 
ful  mood,  but  as  a  rule  it  robbed  and  assisted  indiscriminately 
the  purposes  of  plunder  and  revenge.  It  has  a  code  of  honor 
called  Omerta,  which  means  the  code  of  men  who  have  blood 
in  their  veins  by  which  all  who  are  members  of  the  Mafia  bind 
themselves  never  to  give  evidence  in  a  court  of  law  and  never 
to  seek  at  law  redress  for  any  injury. 

“In  alliance  with  the  Mafia  is  a  sub-secret  order  called 
Fratellanzo,  who  are  a  band  of  assassins,  whose  motto  is: 
‘Sweet  is  the  wine,  but  sweeter  still  is  the  blood  of  the  Chris¬ 
tian!’  Their  acknowledged  god  is  Aremi,  which  is  the  name 
of  the  playing-cards  of  the  Sicilians,  marked  with  gold  money. 
It  therefore  signifies  gold.  Doubtless  it  is  this  subdivision  of 
the  Mafia  that  is  the  pest  of  New  Orleans.  I  am  satisfied, 
from  personal  letters,  that  the  Italian  government  and  Italian 
people,  save  those  who  outwardly  are  influenced  by  party  feel¬ 
ing,  admit  that  the  citizens  of  New  Orleans  did  right  in  pun¬ 
ishing  in  a  summary  way  those  wretches.  They,  in  a 
measure,  imitated  the  methods  adopted  by  General  Pallavinci 
when  he  successfully  put  down  brigandage  in  Calabria  by 
shooting  wholesale,  not  only  the  Mafia  brigands,  but  those 
who  gave  them  shelter.  In  1866  the  Messina  Camora  was 
scotched  by  killing  without  trial  and  lynching  at  one  coup 
twenty-nine  of  the  worst  members  of  this  society.  Against 
this  kind  of  justice  the  Italians  made  no  complaint,  but  on  the 
contrary  expressed  thanks  to'  the  government  for  ridding  the 
island  of  a  class  that  terrified  law-abiding  citizens.” 


CHAPTER  XV 


THE  ASSASSINS 

The  Orient  has  given  to  the  world  no  end  of  legends  and 
tales,  many  of  which  the  novelists  and  dramatists  of  the  Occi¬ 
dent  still  utilize  as  plots  and  motives  about  which  to  build 
entrancing  romances  and  moving  plays.  Fabulous  in  plot  and 
rich  in  imagery  as  was  the  ancient  literature  of  Arabia,  it  was 
not  a  great  exaggeration  of  some  pages  taken  from  the 
authentic  history  of  the  Mohammedan  nations.  Remove  the 
Genii  from  the  Arabian  Nights,  and  quite  as  wonderful  stories 
can  be  found  in  the  annals  of  the  Assassins. 

Originally  a  most  austere  and  ascetic  faith,  Islam  gradually 
grew  to  be  the  personification  of  all  that  was  self-indulgent  and 
gross,  and  finally  became  the  haven  for  all  debased  and  cor¬ 
rupted  souls  who  desired  to  give  full  rein  to  their  licentious 
passions  and,  at  the  same  time,  securely  cloak  their  immoral 
lives  under  the  form  of  strict  religious  observances.  To  this 
policy  must  be  ascribed  the  remarkable,  unparalleled  rise  of 
the  new  faith,  whose  propaganda  was  the  sword,  and  whose 
final  reward  was  an  eternity  of  licentious  bliss.  But,  while 
this  course  rendered  Islam  great,  conquered  empires  and 
spread  its  faith  in  all  directions,  it  ultimately  led  to  its  decline 
and  fall.  Thus  the  primal  strength  of  the  Mohammedans 
proved  their  ultimate  weakness.  Had  the  followers  of  Islam 
practiced  the  severe  morals  and  methods  of  Christianity, 
there  is  no  reason  to  doubt  but  what  they  would  have  con¬ 
quered  the  world  and  established  a  universal,  though  perhaps 
brief,  empire.  Students  of  history  will  remember  how  Han¬ 
nibal,  when  he  had  brought  his  victorious  Carthaginians 
almost  to  the  gates  of  Rome,  foolishly  went  into  winter 
quarters  at  Capua,  one  of  the  most  luxurious  and  vicious  of  all 

252 


THE  ASSASSINS 


253 


the  voluptuous  cities  of  Southern  Italy.  Here  the  army  of 
the  invader  fell  victims  to  the  enervating  effects  of  three 
months  of  riotous  dissipation,  and,  in  consequence,  were 
unable  to  contend  with  the  more  abstemious  soldiers  of  Rome. 
The  fall  of  the  Roman  Empire  itself  must  largely  be  assigned 
to  the  same  cause. 

The  story  of  the  fall  of  Moslem  power  in  Northern  Africa, 
Western  Asia  and  Southern  Europe  presents  points  of  decided 
similarity  to  the  failure  of  Hannibal  and  the  decline  of  Rome. 
While  success  stimulates,  it  not  infrequently  intoxicates. 
This  was  the  case  with  the  Moslems.  Their  victories  were  so 
numerous  and  uniform  that  the}^  came  to  regard  themselves  as 
invincible,  and  believed  that  their  manifest  destiny  was  the 
subjugation  of  all  the  “infidel”  nations.  In  the  meantime, 
indulgence  in  vices  had  weakened  them,  physically,  mentally 
and  morally,  and  they  were  soon  unable  to  cope  with  their 
opponents,  who  were  fighting  for  country  and  religion.  Thus 
began  the  disintegration  of  the  nucleus  of  what  might  well 
have  become  a  vast  and  powerful  empire.  One  of  the  strong¬ 
est  elements  in  breaking  down  the  power  of  Islam  and  scatter¬ 
ing  to  the  four  winds  of  heaven  the  fruits  of  its  past  victories, 
was  found  in  the  order  known  as  Ismaelites,  a  secret  society 
having  its  headquarters  at  Cairo,  whose  members  claimed 
descent  from  Ismael,  the  last  of  the  seven  so-called  Imaums, 
and  who  declared  that  they  alone  were  entitled  to  the  Califate. 
This  organization  gave  an  allegorical  interpretation  to  the 
precepts  of  Islam,  which  led,  as  their  adversaries  asserted,  to 
considering  all  positive  religions  equally  right,  and  all  actions 
morally  indifferent.  The  growth  and  development  of  the 
atrocious  order  of  the  Assassins,  to  which  the  present  chapter 
is  devoted,  seems  a  perfectly  natural  and  legitimate  sequence 
of  such  teachings. 

The  real  origin  of  the  Ismaelites,  who  were  destined  to  have 
a  mighty  effect  in  the  downfall  of  Islam,  and  from  which 
sprang  the  semi-military  organization  known  as  the  Assassins, 
is  at  once  of  interest  and  value.  This  sect  existed  for  some 
time  unnoticed,  and  it  did  not  become  prominent  until  the 
ninth  century,  and  owed  its  prominence  at  that  time  to  Abdal- 


254 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


lah  Ibu  Maimun,  whose  father  had.  been  put  to  death  for  pro¬ 
fessing  materialistic  doctrines,  and  trying  to  turn  the  people 
away  from  Islam.  Abdallah  adopted  his  father’s  doctrines, 
but  used  greater  caution  in  propagating  them.  His  object 
seems  to  have  been  to  undermine  and  abrogate  all  Islam  and 
substitute  for  it  materialism,  atheism  and  immorality. 

Abdallah  appears  to  have  early  perceived  that  it  was  the 
height  of  folly  to  attempt  the  overthrow  of  any  prevailing 
religion  which  was  supported  by  the  armies  of  the  reigning 
dynasty,  and  that  there  was  scarcely  more  hope  of  overturning 
the  dynasty  which  was  upheld  by  the  precepts  and  influence 
of  a  priesthood  that  was  supposed  by  the  people  to  have  been 
divinely  appointed.  He  perceived  that  in  order  to  accomplish 
his  purpose  it  would  be  necessary,  in  the  first  place,  to  sunder 
the  relation  existing  between  the  church  and  state,  between 
monarchy  on  the  one  hand,  and  priestcraft  on  the  other.  A  man 
without  courage  might  have  been  appalled  by  the  extent  of 
such  a  conception,  but  the  very  difficulties  in  his  path  would 
seem  to  have  served  as  a  stimulus  alike  to  Abdallah’s  ambi¬ 
tion  and  his  energy.  He  saw  that  in  order  to  bring  about 
results  at  which  he  aimed,  it  would  be  indispensable  to 
organize  a  society  bound  together  by  oaths  of  inviolable 
secrecy.  Accordingly,  he  devised  a  scheme  for  the  formation 
of  such  an  association,  in  which  there  would  be  seven  degrees 
of  initiation,  and  which  he  surrounded  with  mysterious  rites. 
Little  by  little,  the  neophyte  was  instructed  in  the  doctrines 
which  Abdallah  was  about  to  promulgate,  and  gradually  he 
learned  the  aims  of  the  order  with  which  he  had  connected 
himself.  In  the  highest  degree  he  was  taught  the  vanity  of 
all  religion  and  the  utter  uselessness  of  attempting  the  practice 
of  any  form  of  virtue.  The  ideas  of  the  founder  of  this 
strange  sect  were  industriously  propagated  during  his  lifetime 
by  missionaries  known  as  Dais,  who  traveled  through  Western 
Asia  and  Northern  Africa,  disseminating  these  doctrines. 

One  of  the  most  prominent  of  all  the  Ismaelites  was 
Hassan-ben-Sabbeh-el-Hamairi.  Hassan  was  of  Persian 
descent,  and  at  Nishpur,  about  the  middle  of  the  eleventh 
century,  had  studied  under  the  celebrated  Mowasek.  Thor- 


THE  ASSASSINS 


255 


ouglily  imbued  with  the  free-thinking  tendencies  of  Persia,  he 
had  obtained  from  Ismaelite  Dais,  or  religious  leaders  and 
instructors,  an  insight  into  their  secret  doctrines,  and  a  partial 
consecration  to  the  rank  of  Dai.  Not,  however,  until  after  the 
accession  to  power  of  the  caliph  Melenshah  did  he  emerge  from 
obscurity.  It  was  not  long  after  his  formal  appearance  at  the 
court  of  this  prince  before  he  acquired  great  influence. 
Unfortunately  for  the  prosecution  of  his  plans,  however,  a 
report  reached  the  caliph’s  ears  that  Hassan  had  said  that  if  he 
had  at  his  bidding  two  devoted  friends  he  would  soon  overturn 
the  power  of  the  Sultan  and  the  grand  vizier.  These  words 
were  construed  as  indicating  that  Hassan  cherished  treason¬ 
able  projects,  and  was  contemplating  the  overthrow  of  the 
reigning  dynasty.  Fearful  of  falling  under  the  displeasure  of 
Melenshah,  he  repaired  to  the  court  of  the  Caliph  Mostaussur, 
who  received  him  with  distinguished  honor  and  loaded  him 
with  marks  of  favor.  It  was  not  long  before  he  became 
involved  in  trouble  with  the  commander  of  the  Castle  Dami- 
etta  and  was  thrown  into  prison.  Immediately  upon  his 
release,  this  arch-conspirator  went  to  Syria,  in  which  country, 
during  several  years  of  his  sojourn,  he  made  many  converts. 
Traveling  over  the  country,  he  finally  arrived,  with  some  of 
his  followers,  at  the  Castle  Alamut  (Vulture’s  Nest)  in  the 
Persian  district  of  Rudbar,  about  the  year  1090.  This  fortress 
had  always  been  regarded  as  impregnable,  but  partly  through 
stratagem  and  partly  by  force,  it  fell  into  the  hands  of  Hassan 
and  soon  became  both  the  base  of  his  future  operations  and 
the  seat  of  his  power.  Its  fortifications  were  at  once  strength¬ 
ened,  and  it  became  in  fact,  as  it  had  been  considered  before, 
absolutely  impregnable. 

Secure  in  his  fortress,  Hassan  began  the  work  of  organiz¬ 
ing  what  he  had  for  years  contemplated,  a  rival  society  to  the 
Ismaelites,  which  he  proposed  to  propagate  by  means  of 
systematic  murder.  This  order  was  known  as  the  Ismanilians, 
or  Hassanis,  frequently  spoken  of  as  the  “Eastern  Ismaelites,’’ 
and  was  designed  to  become  a  terror  to  his  powerful  neigh¬ 
bors.  Hassan-ben-Sabbeh  soon  assumed  the  title  of  Sidua, 
which  signifies  “our  lord,’’  although  he  was  frequently  desig- 


256 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


nated  as  “The  Old  Man,”  or  “Supreme  Master  of  the  Moun¬ 
tain,’’  because  his  followers  always  ensconced  themselves  in 
castles  in  the  mountainous  regions.  As  regards  his  authority, 
it  cannot  be  said  to  have  been  that  of  either  king  or  prince, 
but  was  rather  in  the  nature  of  the  rule  exercised  by  a  sheik. 
For  nearly  three  centuries  this  powerful,  unscrupulous  and 
finely  organized  military  society  proved  the  terror  of  neigh¬ 
boring  Oriental  monarchies.  Not  only  did  it  assail  the 
temporal  power  of  States,  but  with  equal  avidity  strove  to 
undermine  and  destroy  all  religions.  Its  fundamental  prin¬ 
ciple  seems  to  have  been  that  neither  in  this  world  nor  the  next 
would  virtue  be  rewarded  or  wrong-doing  punished.  Their 
pretensions  to  temporal  power  by  divine  right  were  based  on 
the  claim  that  Ali  and  his  posterity  were  the  only  rightful 
succession  to  the  prophet  Mohammed. 

The  internal  constitution  of  the  society,  which  has  some 
resemblance  to  the  orders  of  Christian  knighthood,  was  as  fol¬ 
lows:  First,  as  supreme  and  absolute  ruler,  came  the  Sheikh- 
al-jebal,  the  Prince,  or  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain.  His 
vicegerents  in  Jebal,  Kuhistan,  and  Syria  were  the  three 
Dai-al-Kebir,  or  grand-priors  of  the  order.  Next  came  the 
Dais  and  Refiks,  which  last  were  not,  however,  initiated  like 
the  former,  into  every  stage  of  secret  doctrines,  and  had  no 
authority  as  teachers.  To  the  uninitiated  belonged,  first  of  all 
the  Fedavies  or  Fedais — i.  e.,  the  devoted;  a  band  of  resolute 
youths,  the  ever-ready  and  blindly  obedient  executioners  of 
the  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain.  The  Lasiks,  or  novices, 
formed  the  sixth  division  of  the  order,  and  the  laborers  and 
mechanics  the  seventh.  Upon  these,  the  most  rigid  observ¬ 
ance  of  the  Koran  was  enjoined;  while  the  initiated,  on  the 
contrary,  looked  upon  all  positive  religion  as  null. 

Wicked  and  depraved  as  he  undoubtedly  was,  Hassan  was 
a  man  of  marked  ability,  and  possessed  distinguished  powers 
as  an  organizer.  In  addition  to  providing  a  model  for  the 
society,  he  prepared  a  code  for  the  instruction  of  the  Dais,  or 
missionaries.  This  may  be  termed  rules  of  conduct,  and 
embraced  seven  fundamental  points.  The  first  of  these  points 
referred  to  was  “knowledge  of  the  calling,’’  and  purported  to 


m 


ASSASSINS  DYING  AT  THE  COMMAND  OF  THEIR  CHIEF 


PAGE  264 


THE  ASSASSINS 


25  7 


reveal  the  essential  nature  of  human  character  and  of  the 
impulses  governing  its  actions.  The  second  treated  of  the 
best  methods  of  “gaining  confidence.’’  and  instructed  the 
missionaries  how  best  to  win  converts  by  flattering  their 
vanity  and  promising  them  unbridled  indulgence  of  their 
passions.  The  third  presented  a  system  of  “Dialectics,”  a 
method  of  argument  through  the  use  of  which  the  Dais  might 
involve  disputants  in  doubts  concerning  the  positive  precepts 
of  the  Mohammedan  faith,  and  point  out  the  absurdities  of  the 
Koran.  Then  came  the  “Ahd,”  or  “Oath,”  by  which  the 
emissary  bound  himself  to  inviolable  silence  and  absolute  sub¬ 
mission.  He  obligated  himself  never  to  impart  any  doubt  as  to 
the  propriety  of  his  vocation  to  any  one  but  his  superior,  whom 
alone  he  was  blindly  to  obey.  The  fifth  point  sought  to  estab¬ 
lish  the  claim  that  the  doctrines  of  the  order  would  accord 
with  the  beliefs  cherished  by  the  greatest  minds  of  all  the 
ages.  The  sixth  was  a  mere  recapitulation  of  the  preceding 
five  in  order  that  the  uninitiated  might  be  confirmed  and  ' 
strengthened  in  his  profession.  In  the  seventh  point  absolute 
atheism  was  impressed  upon  the  mind  of  the  Dais  by  the 
means  of  an  allegory  in  which  faith  and  duty  were  represented 
as  the  mere  fanaticism  of  a  disordered  mind. 

An  order  based  upon  the  lines  we  have  outlined,  and  forti¬ 
fied  by  such  ingenious  instructions,  could  not  fail  to  attract 
decided  attention,  and  soon  various  princes  began  secretly  to 
pay  tribute  to  the  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain.  After  a  time  the 
new  order  and  the  successes  it  was  attaining,  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  Sultan.  Although  informed  of  the  real  nature 
of  the  Western  Ismaelites  and  the  tendency  of  their  teachings, 
the  Sultan  seems  to  have  treated  the  matter  with  supreme 
contempt.  He  did  not  rest  long  in  that  frame  of  mind,  but 
speedily  came  to  realize  that  the  welfare,  possibly  the  very 
integrity  of  his  empire,  was  seriously  threatened. 

Although  it  is  probable  that  systematic  murder  was  the 
real  cornerstone  upon  which  Hassan  from  the  first  planned  to 
erect  a  mighty  and  most  corrupt  superstructure,  he  did  not,  in 
the  outset,  make  this  manifest,  but,  like  the  skilful  politician 
that  he  was,  kept  the  strongest  point  of  his  entire  system 


258 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


entirely  in  the  background.  In  the  meantime,  the  system  of 
instruction  that  he  had  introduced  had  prepared  his  followers 
for  the  diabolical  work  that  was  at  hand.  At  length  he  judged 
that  the  propitious  hour  had  arrived,  and  started  in  motion  the 
skilfully  constructed  murderous  machine  that  was  to  rid  him 
of  his  enemies,  by  means  of  poison  and  the  dagger,  and  bring 
the  surrounding  princes  into  a  state  of  subjection.  At  this 
time  there  was  probably  no  limit  to  the  ambition  of  the  Old 
Man  of  the  Mountain,  who  probably  expected  to  ascend  the 
throne  of  the  Sultan  and  make  himself — such  is  the  confidence 
born  of  ambition  for  power  and  greed  for  gold — the  supreme 
ruler  of  the  world. 

While  murder  had  doubtless  been  long  secretly  practiced 
under  the  direction  of  Hassan,  the  first  instance  that  has  come 
down  to  us  was  the  assassination  of  Nisamolulk,  vizier  of  the 
Seljukides.  His  death  appears  to  have  been  an  understood 
signal  for  the  perpetration  of  murders  in  a  wholesale  way.  At 
once  there  began  a  long  series  of  assassinations,  many  people 
of  great  prominence  being  stricken  down.  This  was  not 
tamely  submitted  to,  but  met  with  vigorous  retaliation  and  a 
long  and  sanguinary  strife  ensued,  in  which,  thanks  to  their 
splendid  organization  and  their  unscrupulous  methods,  the 
Assassins,  as  they  may  hereafter  be  called,  usually  secured  the 
larger  share  of  victims.  Hassan-ben-Sabbeh  and  his  adherents 
now  openly  threatened  the  throne  itself,  the  leader  issuing  a 
proclamation  in  which  the  prominent  adherents  of  the  Sultan 
were  condemned  to  death.  Those  of  the  highest  rank  afforded 
the  brightest  and  most  shining  marks,  and  were  the  first  to 
fall.  The  order  and  the  government  were  now  at  open  war, 
and,  between  the  assassin  and  the  executioner,  death  reaped  a 
rich  harvest. 

History  abounds  with  horrible  incidents  of  this  most 
unnatural  and  inhuman  warfare,  where  the  principles  of 
humanity  were  thrown  to  the  winds  and  supplanted  by  the 
basest  of  methods.  A  few  illustrations,  better  than  any 
detailed  description,  will  show  the  horrors  of  what,  for  lack  of 
a  better  term,  may  be  termed  a  civil  war.  On  a  prominent 
feast  day,  as  a  prince  of  Mossul  was  walking  in  the  court  of 


THE  ASSASSINS 


259 


the  Grand  Mosque,  he  was  stabbed  and  instantly  killed.  His 
murderer,  who  must  have  known  he  had  no  chance  for  escape, 
was  seized  and  immediately  beheaded.  Riswau,  Prince  of 
Aleppo,  a  rich  and  powerful  dignitary  of  the  north  of  Syria, 
had  protected  the  Assassins,  and  more  than  once  made  use  of 
their  swords,  daggers  and  skilfully  compounded  poisons,  for 
the  removal  of  his  enemies  and  the  extension  of  his  power. 
His  sudden  death,  although  probably  the  result  of  natural 
causes,  was  charged  upon  the  order,  and  was  used  as  a  pretext 
for  a  most  violent  assault  upon  it.  Riswau’s  son,  who  suc¬ 
ceeded  him,  and  who  appears  to  have  greatly  opposed 
Hassan  4and  his  dark  schemes,  promulgated  an  order  for 
the  instant  death  of  the  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain  and  all  his 
followers. 

Although  the  order  fell  far  short  of  fulfillment,  and  Hassan 
was  not  harmed,  a  terrible  revenge  was  taken,  which  was  con¬ 
summated  after  a  fashion  then  peculiar  to  the  East.  The 
formalities  of  the  law  were  ignored,  and  not  less  than  three 
hundred  men,  women  and  children  were  cast  into  prison  alive, 
there  to  suffer  all  the  horror  of  a  lingering  death  through 
starvation.  One  of  the  leaders  met  with  a  fate  peculiarly 
horrible.  After  being  hewed  to  pieces  at  one  of  the  gates  of 
the  city,  his  limbs  were  torn  off  and  his  head  was  carried  about 
through  Syria  as  a  frightful  warning  to  his  associates.  Some 
of  the  Assassins  were  hurled  from  the  top  of  the  walls  into  the 
moat,  while  many  saved  themselves  by  flight,  and  others,  in 
order  to  avert  the  suspicion  of  being  connected  with  the  order, 
denounced  their  friends,  and  even  murdered  them.  For  this 
slaughter  the  order  took  ample  revenge,  killing  their  victims 
singly,  however,  instead  of  adopting  the  methods  of  Riswau. 

The  Assassins  did  not  fail  to  invade  Persia,  where  they 
satiated  their  bloodthirsty  propensities  by  putting  to  death 
some  of  the  most  illustrious  of  the  court.  Among  Hassan ’s 
lieutenants  in  this  country  were  the  Dais  Kia-busurg-omid  and 
Abu  Ali.  Hassan  remained  supreme  commander  of  the 
organization  for  thirty-five  years,  dying  in  1124,  at  the  age  of 
seventy.  Perceiving  his  death  to  be  approaching,  he  sent  for 
Kia-busurg-omid  and  Abu  Ali  and  divided  the  government  of 


26  o 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


the  order  between  them.  To  Abu  Ali  he  gave  the  power  of 
civil  administration,  including  the  right  to  direct  its  external 
operations.  To  Kia-busurg-omid  he  imparted  supreme  power 
over  the  spiritual  affairs  of  the  organization. 

Although,  like  all  “soldiers  of  fortune,”  skilled  in  the  use 
of  the  sword,  the  Assassins  do  not  seem  to  have  affected  it  to 
any  great  extent,  but  preferred  the  dagger  and  poison,  in  the 
preparation  and  use  of  which  they  were  highly  skilled.  Where 
the  death  of  high  dignitaries  was  desired,  poison  was  almost 
always  resorted  to.  In  projects  of  this  kind,  men  highly 
trained  in  the  art  of  flattery  and  deception  were  employed; 
these  were  masters  of  the  second  great  point  in  the  code  of 
Hassan-ben-Sabbeh.  In  the  use  of  the  poniard  these  despi¬ 
cable  wretches  were  veritable  adepts,  a  small  slender  knife 
being  in  their  well-trained  hands  as  effective  as  a  broadsword 
wielded  by  a  burly  executioner.  The  names  of  the  distin¬ 
guished  men  of  various  monarchies  who  fell  victims  to  these 
treacherous  methods  during  the  Grand-Mastership  of  Kia- 
busurg-omid  would  fill  many  pages.  Immunity  from  the 
treacherous  arts  of  these  miscreants  was  absolutely  unknown, 
since  one  could  hardly  be  sure  that  his  closest  servant,  or  even 
his  friend,  might  not  be  a  member  of  the  dreaded  and  accursed 
society.  Sometimes  they  gained  entrance  to  the  presence  of 
their  intended  victim  in  the  guise  of  dervishes,  sometimes 
they  pretended  to  be  servants,  and  frequently  worked  them¬ 
selves  into  positions  of  confidence  and  trust  in  the  establish¬ 
ment  of  the  men  they  designed  to  murder. 

When  the  Crusaders,  during  the  lifetime  of  Hassan, 
returned  to  Europe  after  an  effort  to  reclaim  the  whole  of 
Palestine,  they  spread,  far  and  wide,  the  report  of  the  exist¬ 
ence  of  a  dominion  within  and  yet  outside  of  the  State,  which, 
they  maintained,  was  likely  to  menace,  if  it  did  not  over¬ 
throw,  Europe.  So  great  was  the  fear  of  Philip  Augustus  of 
France  that  for  years  that  timid  monarch  did  not  dare  move 
about  his  kingdom,  unless  attended  by  a  strong  bodyguard. 

Heckethorn,  an  English  investigator  and  author  of  con¬ 
siderable  repute,  spent  much  time  in  the  East  in  the  collection 
of  facts  and  traditions  calculated  to  throw  light  upon  the 


THE  ASSASSINS 


261 


methods  of  this  most  remarkable  organization.  The  follow¬ 
ing  paragraph  is  taken  from  him : 

“The  first  two  divisions  of  the  Ismaelites  were  known  as 
the  self-sacrificers.  It  was  their  boast  that  they  despised 
fatigue,  danger  and  even  torture,  joyfully  offering  their  lives 
whenever  it  pleased  the  Grand  Master  to  require  them,  either 
to  protect  himself  or  to  execute  his  mandates  of  death.  No 
sooner  was  a  victim  indicated  to  them  than  they  immediately 
set  out  to  encompass  his  death,  without  regard  to  either  dis¬ 
tance  or  the  fatigues  of  the  journey.  It  was  their  habit  to 
clothe  themselves  in  a  white  tunic  girdled  with  a  red  sash — the 
colors  of  innocence  and  blood.” 

Whatever  is  said  of  the  Assassins,  and  no  story  of  cruelty 
or  treachery  that  can  be  invented  would  greatly  transcend  the 
truth,  their  faith  to  their  Supreme  Commander  stands  out  as  a 
remarkable  instance  of  fidelity  and  devotion.  As  an  instance 
of  this  quality,  rare  enough  even  among  enlightened  and 
virtuous  men,  the  case  of  one  Conrad  Montferrat  may  be  cited. 
He  had  quarreled  with  the  Grand  Master  of  the  order,  or  had 
excited  the  jealousy  of  some  Christian  prince,  who  desired  his 
removal.  Upon  the  order  of  the  Grand  Master,  two  members 
of  the  association  presented  themselves  as  candidates  for 
Christian  baptism ;  and  while  seemingly  intent  upon  the  devo¬ 
tions  incident  to  the  reception  of  the  sacrament,  were  actually 
waiting  for  an  opportunity  to  assassinate  their  victim.  At  a 
favorable  moment  the  design  was  executed,  and  both  men 
fled,  one  taking  refuge  in  a  church.  Having  learned,  how¬ 
ever,  that  their  victim  had  been  removed,  still  living,  the 
latter  villain  once  more  forced  his  way  into  Montferrat’s  pres¬ 
ence  and  stabbed  him  for  the  second  time,  the  result  being 
fatal.  He  was  at  once  arrested,  tried  and  subjected  to  the 
very  refinement  of  torture,  yet  died  without  any  manifestations 
of  either  remorse  or  physical  suffering. 

It  is  not  easy  to  conceive  the  motive  for  such  devotion. 
To  the  Christian  mind,  the  sufferings  of  the  saints  and  martyrs 
are  sanctified  by  their  faith  in  the  truths  of  a  religion  whose 
precepts  the  Christian  world  believes  to  have  been  as  pure  as 
they  are  divine.  Why  should  an  assassin  willingly  sacrifice  at 


262 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


once  his  liberty  and  his  life  in  the  commission  of  a  crime 
actuated  by  impulses  combined  of  the  elements  of  both  per¬ 
sonal  devotion  and  of  absolute  atheism?  Is  it  not  possible 
that  here  is  a  revelation  alike  of  the  strength  and  the  weakness 
of  human  nature?  The  moral  character  of  man  is  an  anomaly. 
The  records  of  the  criminal  courts  show  that  men  have  been 
ever  ready  to  commit  crimes  of  a  detestable  character,  and  yet 
after  the  perpetration  thereof  have  stooped  to  ask  a  kiss  from 
a  child. 

Essentially  a  social  creature,  men  must  have  associates  and 
frequently  pine  and  die  when  separated  from  their  kind.  As 
already  pointed  out  in  this  volume,  thieves  and  murderers  are 
disposed  to  associate  together  and  hunt  their  prey  in  pairs  or 
bands.  It  seems  highly  probable  that  something  of  the  feeling 
of  fidelity  to  friends  which  actuates  all  good  men  is  retained  by 
those  who  have  fallen  to  the  lowest  depths  of  crime,  and  is 
manifested,  in  a  strange  and  perverted  way,  toward  their 
accomplices.  The  long  experience  of  the  author  in  unraveling 
criminal  mysteries  and  bringing  guilty  parties  to  punishment 
has  convinced  him  that  this  is  true.  He  has  known  burglars 
and  murderers,  against  whom  a  perfectly  clear  case  of  guilt 
was  established,  refuse  to  disclose  or  even  give  a  hint,  as  to 
the  identity  of  their  accomplices,  when  such  a  disclosure  would 
either  have  secured  them  immunity  or  considerably  lessened 
the  measure  of  their  punishment.  The  old  saw  about  “honor 
among  thieves”  undoubtedly  has  a  substantial  foundation  in 
fact,  although  the  word  “honor”  is  not  used  in  the  higher 
sense  of  the  term,  and  the  instances  are  rare. 

Doubtless  this  feeling,  assiduously  cultivated  as  it  was  by 
the  teachings  of  “the  code,”  had  much  to  do  with  the  strange 
fidelity  of  the  Assassins,  yet  this  is  far  from  furnishing  a 
reasonable  explanation  of  many  remarkable  instances.  The 
people  of  the  East  are  essentially  religious,  or,  more  properly, 
fanatical,  and,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Stranglers  of  India,  doubt¬ 
less  carried  much  of  this  perverted  sentiment  into  the  dark 
calling  to  which  they  dedicated  their  lives.  The  very  origin 
of  the  term  “Assassin”  suggests  another,  or  rather  an  addi¬ 
tional,  explanation.  Some  philologists  derive  the  word  from 


THE  ASSASSINS 


263 


the  name  of  the  founder  of  the  order,  Hassan-ben-Sabbeh,  but 
the  better  authority  is  that  the  word  comes  from  the  word 
“hashish,”  an  intoxicating  drug  prepared  from  the  Indian 
hemp-plant.  The  people  of  the  East  have  been  addicted  to 
the  use  of  this  powerful  drug  from  the  earliest  times.  It  is 
said  that  Hassan  used  systematically  to  employ  it  in  stimu¬ 
lating  his  emissaries — “screwing  their  courage  to  thesticking- 
place” — when  an  act  of  special  daring  was  required. 

While  this  policy  of  Hassan  is  well  established  and  is 
doubtless  true,  some  of  the  stories  of  the  methods  he  employed 
to  secure  the  absolute  submission,  not  to  say  devotion,  of  his 
followers  must  be  taken  with  considerable  allowance,  and  are 
strongly  suggestive  of  the  romance  that  pervades  the  Orient. 
At  the  same  time,  it  is  highly  probable  that  they  contain 
much  of  truth ;  indeed,  many  early  writers  maintained  that  the 
folowing  story  is  almost  literally  true : 

It  is  related  that  in  one  of  the  provinces  of  Persia,  where 
the  famous  valley  of  Mulebad  was  situated,  there  was  a  park 
lying  almost  in  the  heart  of  the  mountain,  so  difficult  either  of 
egress  or  ingress  that  it  was  entirely  possible  for  one  to  be 
carried  thither  in  an  unconscious  state  without  knowing  how 
he  approached  or  how  he  might  leave,  what  appeared  to  him 
to  be  an  enchanted  region.  Oriental  legends  say  that  here  was 
situated  the  famous  palace  of  Aladdin,  with  which  the  readers 
of  the  Arabian  Nights  are  familiar.  Surrounded  by  perpen¬ 
dicular  cliffs,  there  was  but  one  avenue  of  approach  to  its 
turf,  and  even  this  was  difficult  of  discovery  by  one  hemmed 
in  by  the  abruptly  rising  precipices.  According  to  the  Persian 
legend,  this  delightful  spot  abounded  in  luxurious  vegetation, 
and  was  visited  by  maidens  of  rare  beauty,  for  whose  accom¬ 
modation  pavilions  had  been  scattered  about.  It  seems  to  be 
a  striking  commentary  upon  the  prevalence  of  Oriental  super¬ 
stition  that,  inherently  improbable  as  it  appears,  the  followers 
of  Hassan  professed  absolute  belief  in  the  existence  of  this 
miraculous  valley.  It  is  said,  that  to  induce  devotion  on  the 
part  of  his  adherents,  the  “Old  Man  of  the  Mountain”  first 
made  his  agents  drunk  on  hashish,  and  while  in  this  condition, 
caused  them  to  be  carried  into  the  valley,  where  each  was  left 


264 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


to  roam  whithersoever  he  pleased.  Gradually  his  senses 
became  more  and  more  intoxicated  until  all  notions  of  moral 
consciousness  had  been  lost  in  the  delirious  whirl  of  sensual 
gratification.  After  recovering  sufficiently  to  appreciate  his 
delightful  surroundings  and  to  understand  the  charms  of  the 
sylphs  who  had  engaged  his  attention,  he  was  in  a  mental 
condition  to  believe  that  he  had  been  transported  to  Elysium. 
Before  he  had  become  sated  with  pleasure  he  was  again  made 
drunk  and  transported  to  his  own  home.  When  his  services 
were  required,- he  was  told  that  he  had  once  been  allowed  to 
enter  Paradise,  and  that  if  he  failed  to  do  the  bidding  of  his 
superior  he  would  never  again  be  permitted  to  enjoy  the  same 
delights. 

Whatever  the  power  that  held  the  Assassins  in  subjection 
and  obedience,  and  it  was  doubtless  of  a  complex  nature,  there 
is  no  doubt  but  what  the  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain  and  his  suc¬ 
cessors  exercised  it  most  unsparingly.  History  is  full  of  inci¬ 
dents  attesting  this.  About  the  time  of  the  First  Crusade, 
one  Henry,  Count  of  Champaign,  was  traveling  in  the  East, 
presumably  on  business  connected  with  rescuing  the  Holy 
Sepulchre.  As  he  was  passing  in  the  neighborhood  of  one  of 
Hassan’s  strongholds,  the  Grand  Master  of  the  Assassins 
invited  him  to  inspect  his  fortress.  While  Hassan  and  the 
count  were  making  the  round  of  the  place,  the  former  made  a 
cabalistic  sign,  well  understood  by  those  in  attendance; 
whereupon  two  of  the  “Faithful”  instantly  stabbed  them¬ 
selves,  falling  dead  at  the  feet  of  the  astounded  visitor.  “Say 
but  a  word,”  remarked  Hassan,  without  displaying  the  slight¬ 
est  emotion,  “and  at  a  sign  from  me  you  shall  see  them  all  die 
at  your  feet.” 

Before  the  Sultan  had  learned  of  the  perfect  organization, 
absolute  devotion,  and  hence  great  strength  of  the  Assassins, 
he  sent  an  ambassador  to  demand  the  immediate  and  uncon¬ 
ditional  surrender  of  the  rebels.  No  sooner  had  the  manda¬ 
tory  message  been  delivered  than  Hassan  said  to  one  of  his 
followers,  “Kill  thyself.”  This  command  was  instantly,  and 
seemingly  willingly,  obeyed.  Turning  to  another  he  said,  as 
calmly  as  if  ordering  a  cup  of  coffee,  “Throw  thyself  from  the 


THE  ASSASSINS 


265 


tower;”  and  the  body  of  the  faithful  servant  was  instantly 
flying  downward  toward  the  rocks  two  hundred  feet  below. 
With  an  affable  smile,  and  without  the  slightest  manifestation 
either  of  excitement  or  anger,  Hassan  said  to  the  astonished 
and  horrified  ambassador:  “Seventy  thousand  followers  obey 
me  with  like  alacrity.  Take  this  answer  to  thy  master.” 

Although  the  Assassins  never  succeeded  in  establishing  an 
empire,  for  the  greater  part  of  two  centuries  they  menaced  the 
peace  of  the  East  and  committed  crimes  innumerable.  Their 
decline  was  due  to  the  same  general  causes  that  have  over¬ 
thrown  kingdoms  in  all  ages;  effeminacy  and  a  weakening  of 
established  rules.  With  Hassan-ben-Sabbeh  died  the  great 
genius  of  the  order,  although  among  his  successors  were  men 
of  marked  ability  and  cruel  hearts.  Kia-busurg-omid,  the 
immediate  successor  of  Hassan,  died  in  1138,  and  was  followed 
by  his  son  Mohammed,  who  developed  ability  as  a  leader  and 
a  warrior — on  the  detestable  lines  adopted  by  his  order.  In 
1163  Hassan  II.  wh.s  foolish  and  rash  enough  to  extend  the 
secret  privilege  of  the  initiated — exemption  from  the  positive 
precepts  of  religion — to  the  entire  body  of  his  people.  At  the 
same  time,  he  undertook  to  abolish  Islam  in  his  own  domin¬ 
ions,  which  led  to  his  falling  a  victim  to  the  dagger  of  his 
brother-in-law.  Hassan  II.  was  succeeded  by  his  son, 
Mohammed  II.,  who  adopted,  essentially,  the  spirit  of  his 
father.  Under  the  rather  weak  rule  adopted  by  him,  the 
Syrian  Dai-el-Kebir,  Sinan  became  independent,  and  entered 
into  negotiations  with  Baldwin,  the  Christian  king  of  Jerusa¬ 
lem,  for  coming  over  with  his  followers,  upon  certain  condi¬ 
tions,  to  the  Christian  faith.  But,  apparently  that  they  might 
not  lose  the  yearly  tribute  exacted  from  Sinan,  the  Templars 
rejected  his  overtures  and  killed  his  envoys.  Mohammed  II. 
gave  a  practical  illustration  of  the  methods  of  his  murderous 
order,  falling  a  victim  to  poison  administered  by  his  own  son, 
who  succeeded  him  as  Hassan  III.  This  parricide  reinstated 
Islamism,  and  in  so  doing  obtained  the  surname  of  the  New 
Islam.  Mohammed  III.,  a  boy  of  nine  years,  was  the  suc¬ 
cessor  of  the  last-named  ruler.  His  rule  was  so  effeminate  as 
to  lead  to  the  eventual  overthrow  of  the  order.  He  was  mur- 


266 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


dered  by  the  command  of  his  son,  Rokn-eddin,  who  became 
the  seventh  and  last  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain. 

In  1256  the  Assassins  of  Persia  ceased  to  exist  as  an  organi¬ 
zation.  In  that  year,  the  Mongolian  prince,  Hulagu,  burst 
with  his  vast  hordes  upon  the  hundred  or  more  hill-forts  of 
Persia,  held  by  the  Assassins,  and  succeeded  in  capturing  and 
destroying  them  all.  About  the  end  of  the  thirteenth  century, 
the  Syrian  branch  of  the  society  was  also  put  down,  but  rem¬ 
nants  of  the  sect  continued  for  some  time,  to  linger  in  Kuhis- 
tan.  After  a  lapse  of  a  century — to  be  exact,  in  1352 — the 
Assassins  reappeared  in  Syria,  but  never  again  rose  to  prom¬ 
inence.  It  is  said  that  they  still  exist,  as  an  heretical  sect, 
both  there  and  in  Persia.  The  Persian  Ismaelites  have  an 
imaun,  or  superintendent,  in  the  district  of  Keem,  and  still 
live,  under  the  name  of  Hosseinis,  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Alamont.  The  Syrian  branch  of  the  order  inhabit  the  district 
of  Massiat,  Massyad.  In  1809  their  castle  was  taken  from 
them  by  the  Nossarius,  but  was  afterwards  restored.  These 
remnants  of  the  Assassins  have  ceased  the  diabolical  practices 
of  bygone  centuries,  at  least  so  far  as  is  openly  known. 

While  the  outline  here  given  of  the  performance  of  this 
most  remarkable  organization  is  drawn  from  the  most 
authentic  historical  sources,  it  must  be  understood  that  these 
are,  for  the  most  part,  hostile  to  the  Assassins;  consisting  as 
they  do,  of  the  Christian  chroniclers  of  the  Middle  Ages  and 
the  subsidized  historians  of  the  orthodox  Mohammedans.  At 
the  same  time,  it  is  not  probable  that  the  story  is  greatly 
exaggerated.  Eight  hundred  years  ago  the  western  world  was 
almost  bodily  given  over  to  force,  brutality  and  deception, 
and  Europe  showed  many  instances  of  cruelty  and  wrong  that 
might  well  take  rank  with  the  worst  acts  of  the  Assassins.  So 
great  has  been  the  moral  progress  of  civilized  man  since  the 
dark  days  portrayed  in  this  chapter,  that  we  are  almost  unable 
to  appreciate  the  moral  depravity  that  then  swayed  the  hearts 
and  shaped  the  actions  of  those  who  yearned  for  power  and 
gold. 

There  is  one  passion  of  the  human  heart  that  must  have 
had  much  to  do  with  the  rise  and  remarkable  prosperity  of  the 


THE  ASSASSINS 


267 


order  of  Assassins,  to  which  attention  has  not  yet  been 
directed;  the  innate  impulse  to  take  human  life.  Had  the  serv¬ 
ants  and  followers  of  Hassan-ben-Sabbeh  been  endowed  with 
that  horror  of  murder  which  now  almost  universally  prevails, 
at  least  in  the  western  world,  such  a  society  as  the  Assassins 
would  have  been  impossible,  inconceivable.  But  with  men  in 
whom  the  homicidal  impulse  had  been  given  free  rein,  nay, 
encouraged  by  present  rewards  and  the  promise  of  immortal 
bliss,  the  case  was  far  different.  In  some  respects  the  Assas¬ 
sins  resemble  the  Stranglers  of  India,  who  succeeded  them  in 
order  of  time.  In  each  the  love  of  killing  was  developed  to 
the  highest  conceivable  point,  and  made,  in  a  certain  sense,  a 
part  and  parcel  of  the  religion,  or  superstition,  they  professed 
to  follow. 

Who  can  read  this  brief  chronicle  of  the  Assassins,  and 
catch  a  glimpse  of  the  dark  background  presented  by  the 
world  of  that  time — the  Christian,  as  well  as  the  Mohammedan 
and  Pagan  world — and  not  believe  that  mankind  has  advanced, 
in  morals  as  well  as  intelligence  and  civilization,  since  those 
awful  days  when  the  life  of  a  man  was  counted  as  less  valu¬ 
able  than  that  of  the  horse  he  rode?  The  author  does  not 
contend  that  moral  improvement  is  progressing  rapidly  at  the 
present  day;  he  knows  that  it  is  advancing  slowly,  but  he 
trusts,  and  confidently  believes,  that  it  is  moving  in  the  right 
direction.  A  single  generation  shows  small  changes,  but  the 
lapse  of  eight  centuries  demonstrates  the  truth  of  the  proposi¬ 
tion  that  the  world  is  becoming  better. 


CHAPTER  XVI 


THE  THUGS  OF  INDIA 

From  the  earliest  ages  the  Oriental  countries  have  abounded 
in  crimes  of  a  revolting  character.  That  this  is  due  to  the 
decay  of  an  early  civilization  has  been  questioned,  but  it  seems 
probable  that  such  is  the  truth.  While  the  wants  and  pleas¬ 
ures  of  a  pastoral  people  are  few  and  easily  satisfied,  their 
tendency  to  debauchery  and  crime  is  likewise  limited.  Our 
civilization  began  in  the  East,  and  upon  the  East  first  dawned 
the  blighting  fire  that,  in  the  past  history  of  the  world,  has 
always  accompanied  intellectual  enlightenment.  India,  if  not 
the  actual  birthplace,  at  least  the  training-school  of  the  race, 
early  fell  into  that  degeneracy  that  is  now  threatening  the 
western  nations.  The  religion  of  a  people  has  much,  every¬ 
thing  in  fact,  to  do  with  its  intellectual  and  moral  advance¬ 
ment. 

While  the  Christian  faith  is  intensely  democratic,  in  that  it 
provides  one  course  of  life  and  one  means  of  salvation  for  all 
classes  of  men,  rich  and  poor,  lord  and  peasant,  that  of  India  is 
essentially  two-fold.  There  is  one  creed  for  the  educated  and 
influential,  another  for  the  ignorant  and  lowly.  The  former 
is  not  wanting  in  elements  of  true  and  exalted  philosophy,  the 
precepts  of  which  have  produced  many  men  of  high  character, 
whose  lives  and  teachings  have  adorned  and  elevated 
humanity. 

In  remote  ages  no  discrimination  seems  to  have  existed, 
and  all  were  taught  the  principles  of  right  living.  For  many 
centuries,  however,  this  has  been  a  thing  of  the  past.  The 
ancient  philosophy  is  still  maintained  and  nurtured,  it  is  true, 
but  it  exists  only  for  the  higher  classes,  while  the  common 
people  have  long  been  plunged  into  absolute  degradation.  In 

268 


THE  THUGS  OF  INDIA 


269 


lieu  of  the  austerities  practiced  almost  universally  in  the  olden 
time,  and  yet  observed  in  the  monastic  institutions,  where  the 
ancient  philosophy  still  exists  in  something  of  its  original 
purity,  the  creed  of  the  common  people  is  fairly  well  expressed 
by  the  word  “license.”  Under  the  outward  form  of  religious 
worship  is  embodied  the  secret  gratification  of  almost  every 
evil  passion.  Thus,  with  the  masses  of  the  people  of  India, 
religion  becomes  a  grotesque  parody  upon  all  that  is  truly 
good  and  virtuous.  European  savants  visit  India,  converse 
with  its  priests,  study  its  ancient  sacred  books  and  return  with 
glowing  accounts  of  the  exalted  philosophy  still  taught  there. 
Such  men  seemingly  ignore  the  distinction  we  have  pointed 
out,  and  forget  to  mention  the  depths  of  superstition  into 
which  the  masses  of  the  people  have  fallen,  and  from  which 
the  ancient  faith,  still  remembered  and  taught  in  the  inner 
temples,  has  not  the  living  force  to  extricate  them. 

Left  practically  to  themselves,  the  common  people,  without 
forgetting  the  name  and  essential  attributes  of  God,  have 
fallen  into  a  most  debasing  polytheism,  and  have  made  a  god 
for  almost  every  visible  object  and  passion,  whether  noble  or 
debased.  Deities  are  not  confined  to  the  elevating  and  enno¬ 
bling,  but  the  thief,  the  drunkard,  the  voluptuary — the  mur¬ 
derer,  even — have  each  some  particular  deity,  to  whom  he 
acknowledges  special  obedience,  and  to  whom  he  looks,  and 
that  with  entire  confidence,  for  the  granting  of  particular  and 
special  favors.  The  names  of  the  deities  of  India  are  literally 
legion.  No  European  has  ever  compiled  a  list  of  them,  and 
such  a  labor  would  far  transcend  the  abilities  of  any  one  man. 

In  all  the  long  catalogue  of  Indian  gods  and  goddesses, 
perhaps  the  most  debasing  and  revolting  is  Kalee,  the  goddess 
of  destruction.  Every  description,  almost,  of  rapine,  whether 
directed  against  person  or  property,  is  under  her  special  pro¬ 
tection  and  patronage.  Her  worshipers  are  numerous,  and 
their  devotion  seems  well-nigh  unlimited.  In  her  “sacred” 
name  the  vilest  deeds  are  committed,  and  the  darkest  crimes 
exalted  into  the  highest  religious  duties.  So  far-reaching  is 
this  devotion  to  Kalee,  that  murder,  even  when  committed  for 
the  purpose  of  gain,  is  regarded  as  a  sacred  act,  and  is  sur- 


270 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


rounded  by  a  halo  of  glory  peculiarly  its  own.  Kalee  is  the 
special  deity  and  patroness  of  the  order  of  “Thugs,”  who 
claim  her  as  peculiarly  their  own,  and  in  her  name  commit 
the  most  enormous  and  revolting  crimes. 

This  diabolical,  yet  most  mysterious  society,  which  fastened 
itself  upon  Hindostan  to  a  much  greater  extent  than  is  gener¬ 
ally  appreciated,  possesses  a  most  absorbing  interest  and  is  not 
wanting  in  some  of  the  elements  of  genuine  romance.  The 
origin  of  Kalee  is  obscured  in  a  vast  mass  of  mythology  which 
renders  a  comprehensive  notion  of  her  original  attributes 
difficult  to  obtain.  Among  its  most  ancient  legends  is  one  to 
the  effect  that  in  the  beginning  of  her  reign  the  bloodthirsty 
goddess  devoted  her  personal  attention  to  the  disposition  of 
the  bodies  of  those  slain  in  her  honor.  Her  commands  were 
enshrouded  in  the  most  profound  secrecy,  and  no  Thug  was 
ever  permitted  to  even  cast  a  backward  glance  upon  the  scene 
of  his  crime.  It  was  taught,  and  actually  believed,  that  the 
society  prospered  only  so  long  as  the  behests  of  the  murderous 
goddess  were  implicitly  obeyed.  But,  long  ago,  so  long  that 
the  exact  date  is  lost  in  the  mist  of  years,  there  came  a  time — 
so  runs  the  legend  implicitly  believed  by  thousands — when 
some  perverse  and  misguided  Thug  had  the  extreme  hardi¬ 
hood  to  wilfully  disobey  one  of  the  precepts  of  this  rather 
tyrannical  goddess.  Kalee  seems  to  have  risen  to  the 
emergency  and  struck  her  devotees  a  body  blow.  She 
promptly  withdrew  from  them  her  personal  assistance,  and, 
while  still  demanding  victims,  no  longer  disposed  of  their 
remains,  enjoining  upon  her  followers  the  duty  of  burying 
their  own  dead. 

It  may  be  thought  that  this  horrible  belief  is  but  a  mask 
behind  which  the  perpetrators  of  hideous  crimes  hide  their  real 
personal  wickedness.  To  a  certain  extent  this  is  no  doubt 
true,  for  mankind  always  seeks  an  excuse  for  its  misdeeds, 
yet  the  Thugs  undoubtedly  have  a  certain  faith  in  their  self- 
imposed  superstition  and  are  thereby  led  to  greater  acts  of 
crime  than  they  would  otherwise  dare  to  commit. 

There  is  nothing  more  revolting  in  the  whole  history  of 
crime,  from  the  most  remote  times,  than  is  found  in  the  story 


THE  THUGS  OF  INDIA 


271 


of  this  abominable  sect.  To  the  Thug,  the  implement  of  mur¬ 
der  is  the  emblem  of  his  religion.  In  the  days  of  their  glory, 
every  form  of  assassination  was  regarded  as  a  most  holy  act, 
and,  according  to  the  traditional  precepts  of  Kalee,  its  commis¬ 
sion  was  the  “open  sesame’’  that  threw  back  the  gates  of  para¬ 
dise  to  either  the  murderer  or  robber.  There  is,  in  the  entire 
history  of  the  world,  no  instance  of  a  greater  perversion  of 
religion  than  is  here  manifested ;  it  demonstrates  how  depraved 
hearts  may  turn  sacred  things  to  the  basest  uses.  Organized 
bands  of  thieves  and  murderers  have  existed  in  all  ages  and 
countries,  but  to  India  alone  is  reserved  the  unenviable  dis¬ 
tinction  of  having  lifted  murder  and  theft  into  the  domain  of 
religion,  and  surrounded  them  with  so-called  sacred  cere¬ 
monies  and  worship.  To  the  minds  of  those  reared  in  Chris¬ 
tian  lands,  the  opinions  and  motives  of  the  worshipers  of 
Kalee  are  almost  incomprehensible. 

The  word  Thug  is  derived  from  the  Hindustani  word 
“thoga,”  to  deceive;  hence,  literally,  a  deceiver,  a  cheat. 
The  name  Thug  is  the  one  by  which  all  grades  of  this  very 
numerous  society  are  known  throughout  the  civilized  world, 
but  in  Hindostan  they  are  distinguished  by  various  appella¬ 
tions,  which  are  employed  in  different  portions  of  the  country. 
In  the  northern  part  of  the  peninsula  they  are  known  as 
“Thugs,”  while  in  the  south  they  are  generally  designated  as 
“Phansigars,”  or  “Stranglers,”  from  Phansi,  a  noose.  In  the 
south  of  India  the  Stranglers  formerly  operated  under  the 
patronage  of  the  native  chieftains,  who  shared  in  the  profits  of 
their  proteges’  thefts  and  murders.  In  that  section  these 
organized  murderers  usually  masked  their  real  occupation 
under  some  apparent  employment,  generally  the  cultivation  of 
the  soil. 

Both  the  native  and  the  English  governments  have  taken 
active  steps  to  suppress  thuggee — the  practices  of  the  Thugs 
— but  it  is  only  since  1831  that  any  really  energetic  efforts 
have  been  made  on  the  part  of  the  British  authorities  to  stamp 
out  this  fearful  curse.  At  present  it  has  well-nigh  disappeared, 
though  it  still  exists  in  some  rather  remote  provinces  of  India. 
It  has,  however,  left  a  deep  impression  upon  Indian  society 


272 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


and  practices,  and  murder  by  strangulation  is  still  remarkably 
prevalent  there.  The  operations  of  the  remnants  of  the 
Thugs  still  continue  to  baffle  the  British  detectives,  and  many 
mysterious  crimes  go  unpunished  through  the  practice  of 
methods  that  have  come  down  from  times  when  thuggee  pre¬ 
vailed  in  all  its  original,  fiendish  perfection.  In  the  inquiries 
instituted  by  the  English  government,  a  good  deal  of  light  has 
been  thrown  upon  the  methods  of  these  murdering  villains, 
during  the  first  half  of  the  present  century. 

A  British  officer — Captain  Sleeman  by  name — is  authority 
for  the  statement  that  the  Thugs  were  accustomed  to  some¬ 
times  operate  in  gangs  of  two  or  three  hundred;  that  they 
traveled  in  a  body,  although  moving  through  the  country  in 
small  parties  of  ten  or  twenty,  the  several  bands  within  easy 
reach  of  each  other.  The  roads  selected  for  their  journey 
were  usually  those  running  parallel,  and  their  respective 
routes  were  so  laid  out  that  they  might  all  concentrate  imme¬ 
diately,  should  occasion  arise.  They  usually  presented  the 
appearance  of  ordinary  and  inoffensive  travelers,  and  not 
infrequently  pretended  to  be  itinerant  merchants.  When 
circumstances  placed  them  in  a  position  where  their  compara¬ 
tive  wealth  would  justify  them  in  making  a  display  of  the 
same,  they  assumed  the  guise  of  prosperous  citizens  traveling 
for  pleasure. 

Before  their  practices  were  interfered  with  by  the  agents  of 
the  law,  the  Thugs  operated  in  a  most  systematic  and  orderly 
manner,  having  a  good  organization  and  being  exceedingly 
well  disciplined.  With  as  consummate  skill  as  was  ever  mani¬ 
fested  by  the  best  trained  European  organizations  for  plunder, 
the  Thugs  used  to  haunt  the  outskirts  of  small  towns  and  vil¬ 
lages  where  the  authorities  would  be  powerless  to  combat  with 
them  in  the  event  of  a  disturbance.  In  little  parties,  appar¬ 
ently  disconnected,  they  would  straggle  into  a  town  and  meet 
at  some  prearranged  rendezvous.  Each  party,  and  each 
member  of  it,  had  a  special  duty  to  perform,  usually  the 
discovery  of  the  names,  wealth  and  intended  movements  of 
those  about  to  go  upon  journeys. 

These  bands  were  comprised  of  women  as  well  as  men; 


THE  THUGS  OF  INDIA 


273 


whole  families,  including  small  children,  belonging  to  them. 
If  ever  children  were  born  with  a  heritage  of  crime  and 
shame,  these  children  of  the  Thugs  surely  were.  It  is  only  by 
understanding  this  point  that  we  can  appreciate  how  men, 
formed  in  the  image  of  God,  and  endowed  with  the  rudiments, 
at  least,  of  conscience,  could  sink  to  the  depths  of  superstition, 
cruelty  and  vice  occupied  by  the  Thugs.  As  an  infant,  born 
and  reared  in  a  Christian  home,  comes  to  love  true  religion 
and  the  practice  of  self-denial,  generosity  and  virtue,  so  the 
infant  Thug  was,  from  the  very  beginning  of  his  conscious 
existence,  taught  to  love  the  most  detestable  things ;  to  regard 
theft  as  the  most  commendable  occupation  and  to  look  forward 
to  the  commission  of  his  first  murder,  as  the  youth  of  the  days 
of  chivalry  eagerly  anticipated  the  first  joist  or  battle  that 
might  give  him  a  pair  of  spurs  and  the  honorable  name  of 
knight.  This  education  has  about  it  something  so  horrible 
that  its  equal  can  hardly  be  found,  in  any  wholesale  way,  in  the 
entire  annals  of  mankind.  The  schools  of  our  day  are  not 
more  carefully  graded  than  were  those  in  which  the  art  of 
deception,  duplicity,  theft  and  murder  were  systematically 
taught.  In  comparison  with  the  academy  operated  by  Fagin, 
from  which  thieves  were  graduated  and  licensed  to  ply  their 
trade,  those  of  the  Thugs  occupied  the  position  of  a  post¬ 
graduate  course  in  one  of  the  highest  of  our  modern  univer¬ 
sities.  From  babyhood  the  children  of  these  wretches  were 
associated  with  every  phase  of  crime,  and  taught  to  emulate 
the  most  wicked  and  inhuman  deeds.  Having  passed  through 
a  long  novitiate,  in  which  deception  and  the  art  of  assuming  a 
look  and  bearing  of  innocence  were  the  chief  lessons,  the 
aspirant  to  the  position  of  a  full-fledged  Thug  was  finally  put 
to  work.  This  was  at  first  confined  to  menial  duties  and  the 
perpetration  of  minor  crimes.  Such  assistants  were  invaluable 
to  the  real  operators  of  the  band,  as  they  could  more  readily 
gather  information  than  adults,  and  at  the  same  time  divert 
suspicion  from  the  real  purposes  of  the  band. 

The  inhabitants  of  the  East  have  always  been  noted  for 
their  plausible  speech  and  insinuating  manners,  but  among 
them  all  none  have  excelled  the  Thugs  in  these  regards. 


274 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


Polite  and  affable  to  all  with  whom  they  came  in  contact,  they 
were  especially  attentive  and  obsequious  to  those  whom  they 
had  marked  for  robbery  and  murder.  Although  they  were 
possessed  of  no  end  of  resources,  their  method  of  procedure, 
where  murder  was  to  be  committed,  was  usually  substantially 
the  same.  The  first  step  was  for  the  leaders  of  any  particular 
party  to  ingratiate  themselves  into  the  confidence  of  the  unfor¬ 
tunate  traveler,  from  whom  they  cunningly  elicited  informa¬ 
tion  as  to  the  place  of  his  residence,  his  point  of  destination, 
the  purpose  for  which  his  journey  had  been  undertaken,  and 
what  property,  if  any,  he  carried  with  him.  Sometimes  the 
assassins  would  propose- to  travel  with  their  intended  victim, 
saying  that  mutual  protection  against  Thugs  rendered  such  a 
step  desirable  for  all  alike.  Often  some  other  specious  pretext 
was  given  as  an  excuse.  More  frequently,  however,  they  fol¬ 
lowed  him  at  a  little  distance,  until  a  favorable  opportunity 
presented  itself  for  a  murderous  attack. 

The  work  of  the  assassin  is,  in  itself,  proof  of  a  lack  of 
personal  courage ;  a  murderer  stabs  a  man  in  the  back  because 
he  is  a  physical  coward,  and  fears  to  meet  him  face  to  face. 
To  this  rule  the  Thugs  formed  no  exception.  Not  only 
would  they  wait  for  days  to  take  a  proposed  victim  at  a  dis¬ 
advantage,  but  they  never  encountered  him  single-handed. 
At  least  two  Thugs  were  always  detailed  to  make  an  attack 
upon  a  single  man,  and  where  a  party  was  to  be  assailed  the 
assassins  always  presented  themselves  in  sufficient  numbers  to 
render  resistance  unavailing.  The  Thug  who,  alone  and 
unsupported,  could  drag  an  unsuspecting  rider  from  his  saddle 
and  take  his  life,  was,  in  the  estimation  of  his  fellows,  covered 
with  glory,  and  the  occurrence  was  handed  down  by  his 
posterity  as  a  mark  of  high  honor. 

The  usual  method  of  practicing  thuggee  was  as  follows :  The 
selected  victim  was,  without  previous  warning,  suddenly  sur¬ 
rounded  by  an  ample  force  of  Thugs  who  had,  perhaps,  fol¬ 
lowed  him  for  days,  awaiting  this  opportunity,  one  of  whom 
threw  a  rope  or  cloth  across  his  neck,  one  end  being  retained, 
while  the  other  was  seized  by  a  confederate.  The  two  ends 
were  then  crossed  and  drawn  taut,  and  death  from  strangu- 


THE  THUGS  OF  INDIA 


275 


lation  usually  resulted  speedily.  Simple  and  effective  as  this 
method  would  seem  to  be,  the  extreme  prudence  of  the  Thug 
often  deterred  him  from  adopting  it.  A  third  confederate 
was  often  at  hand,  whose  business  it  was  to  seize  the  strug¬ 
gling  man,  throw  him  to  the  ground,  supplement  the  action  of 
the  deadly  cord  with  a  series  of  brutal  kicks  and  blows  which 
speedily  deprived  the  wretched  victim  of  life. 

Sometimes  another  method  was  adopted.  One  Thug  would 
station  himself  in  front  of  the  unsuspecting  traveler,  another 
would  follow  behind,  while  a  third  would  walk  by  the  side  of 
the  rider  and  engage  him  in  conversation.  At  an  opportune 
moment  the  assassin  beside  the  stirrup  would  drag  the  victim 
from  his  saddle  while  the  one  in  front  turned  and  seized  him. 
Before  he  could  rise  or  exert  whatever  strength  he  possessed, 
the  third  murderer  would  pass  a  rope  round  his  neck  and  the 
work  would  be  speedily  accomplished.  Whichever  method 
was  adopted,  the  Thugs  always  proceeded  with  the  greatest 
possible  caution,  and  often  had  a  reserve  force  ambushed 
within  easy  call  to  guard  against  the  possibility  of  a  surprise 
by  other  parties. 

In  lieu  of  a  rope  or  cord,  as  the  instrument  of  strangula¬ 
tion,  a  ribbon  or  sash  was  often  employed.  Many  Thugs  seem 
to  have  preferred  this  implement  of  death,  for  the  reason  that 
they  could  be  openly  worn  about  the  person  without  exciting 
suspicion.  As  to  the  exact  method  of  using  this  seemingly 
harmless,  but  none  the  less  fearful,  weapon,  a  few  lines  from 
the  report  of  a  commission  appointed  by  the  English  govern¬ 
ment  will  prove  of  interest: 

“When  a  waist  cloth  or  sash  is  used,  it  is  previously 
doubled  to  the  length  of  two  feet,  or  two  feet  and  a  half ;  a 
knot  is  formed  at  the  doubled  extremity,  and  a  slip-knot  tied 
about  eighteen  inches  from  it.  In  regulating  the  distance  of 
the  two  knots,  so  that  the  intervening  space,  when  the  scarf  is 
tightly  twisted,  may  be  adapted  to  embrace  the  neck,  the 
Thug  who  prepares  the  instrument  ties  it  upon  his  own  knee. 
The  two  knots  give  a  firm  hold  of  the  cloth,  and  prevent  its 
slipping  through  the  hands  in  the  act  of  applying  it.  After 
the  person  attacked  has  been  brought  to  the  ground,  the  slip- 


276 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


knot  is  loosed  by  the  Thug  who  has  hold  of  that  part  of  the 
cloth ;  and  he  makes  another  fold  of  it  around  the  neck ;  and 
placing  his  foot  upon  it  he  draws  the  cloth  tight,  in  a  manner 
similar  to  that — to  use  the  expression  of  a  Thug  informer — ‘of 
packing  a  bundle  of  straw’.” 

In  thuggee  the  disposition  of  the  body  was  as  important  a 
matter  as  the  act  of  murder,  and  was  attended  to  with  equal 
care  and  method,  substantially  uniform  in  all  cases.  White  is 
the  emblem  of  mourning  in  India,  and  their  first  act,  after 
making  sure  of  the  booty,  was  to  cover  the  body  with  a  white 
cloth,  carried  with  them  for  that  purpose.  Two  of  the  band 
were  usually  left  in  attendance.  These  raised  their  voices  in 
a  mournful  chant  for  the  dead,  as  was  the  custom  of  the 
country.  The  East  Indians  grade  sorrow  by  the  amount  of 
noise  produced  over  the  remains  of  the  departed,  and  the  two 
mourning  Thugs  always  howled  in  a  manner  that  at  once 
disarmed  all  suspicion.  When  any  one  approached  and  began 
inquiries  about  the  deceased,  the  grief  of  the  Thugs  became  so 
great  as  to  render  explanation  impossible.  If  forced  to  speak, 
they  were  not  wanting  in  reasons  and  excuses.  The  deceased 
had  been  a  member  of  a  party  of  travelers  with  whom  they 
had  been  associated,  and,  of  course,  they  were  remaining  as  a 
religious  guard  over  the  remains  of  the  unfortunate  man. 
How  had  he  been  killed?  Really,  they  did  not  know.  The 
fact  that  he  was  dead  was  enough  to  arouse  their  grief,  and 
the  manifestations  of  their  sorrow  were  loud  enough  to  awake 
the  echoes  on  all  of  the  surrounding  valleys.  In  order  to 
conform  with  the  East  Indian  custom  and  still  further  to  dis¬ 
arm  suspicion,  one  of  the  watching  Thugs  would,  from  time 
to  time,  fall  down  upon  the  ground  and  writhe  as  if  in  pain 
induced  by  the  recollection  of  the  virtues  of  the  late  departed. 
Not  infrequently  such  a  band  of  thieves  appealed  to  the 
charity  of  a  traveler  by  pretending  that  they  did  not  have 
sufficient  money  among  the  whole  party  to  pay  for  the  burial 
of  one  of  their  number.  When  this  ruse  could  be  successfully 
worked,  of  course  the  receipts  of  the  gang  of  assassins  were 
enriched  by  just  so  much. 

The  Thugs  always  selected  a  sequestered  place  for  their 


THE  THUGS  OF  INDIA 


277 


murders,  and  usually  a  location  convenient  to  a  running 
stream.  The  reason  for  this  last  peculiarity  has  never  been 
satisfactorily  explained,  for  the  rule  of  burial  observed  by 
them  required  that  the  body  of  a  victim  be  interred  in  the 
ground  and  covered  to  a  depth  of  at  least  two  feet,  though 
their  graves  were  usually  dug  to  a  depth  of  from  three  to  four 
feet.  Bodies  were  invariably  buried  face  downward.  The 
impulse  to  take  human  life,  cultivated  in  these  wretches  from 
their  childhood,  was  frequently  not  satisfied  with  simple  mur¬ 
der.  They  were  accustomed  to  mutilate  the  bodies  of  their 
victims  in  a  most  outrageous  and  fiendish  manner.  Long  and 
deep  gashes  were  often  cut  in  various  portions  of  the  body, 
which  was  then  distorted  into  grotesque  and  abnormal  shapes. 
This  was,  no  doubt,  a  quasi-religious  ceremony,  and  a  partic¬ 
ular  Thug  was  selected  for  the  horrid  duty.  This  office  was 
regarded  as  decidedly  honorable.  But  burial  was  not  abso¬ 
lutely  indispensable.  Where,  for  fear  of  discovery  or  other 
causes,  it  was  not  safe  or  convenient,  the  body  of  the  victim 
was  placed  in  a  sack,  carried  away  from  the  scene  of  the 
tragedy  and  thrown  into  a  well.  The  district  of  Oude  is  irri¬ 
gated  by  water  drawn  from  wells,  and,  in  the  palmy  days  of 
the  Thugs,  the  finding  of  a  dead  body  in  a  well  excited  little 
interest  and  led  to  no  inquiry,  so  frequent  were  these  grue¬ 
some  discoveries.  In  districts  where  there  were  few  wells, 
such  as  Behar  and  Bengal,  the  rivers  were,  in  cases  of  neces¬ 
sity,  utilized  as  places  for  the  convenient  disposition  of  bodies. 
Sometimes  the  place  of  interment  was  concealed  from  the  view 
of  passers-by  by^  erecting  a  tent  over  the  place,  so  long  as  the 
band  desired  to  remain  in  the  neighborhood. 

Although  very  methodical  in  their  homicides,  the  Thugs 
never  allowed  a  victim  who  had  evaded  stangulation  to  escape 
with  his  life.  When  such  an  exigency  arose,  the  traveler  was  at 
once  set  upon  by  other  members  of  the  band,  ensconced  in  some 
convenient  ambush  for  that  very  contingency.  A  large  num¬ 
ber  of  wounds  were  inflicted  upon  him,  and  his  head  speedily 
severed  from  his  body.  Instances  are  exceedingly  rare 
where  a  victim,  marked  for  death,  has  ever  escaped  to 
recount  his  terrible  adventures.  When  such  an  instance 


278 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


occurred,  or  when,  from  other  reasons,  they  were  apprehensive 
of  arrest,  the  band  would  disperse  and  disappear  from  view  as 
if  swallowed  up  by  the  ground,  only  to  reassemble  at  some 
prearranged  rendezvous,  remote  from  the  scene  of  the 
trouble. 

Diabolical  as  were  the  practices  of  these  monsters,  they 
were  far  from  considering  their  murderous  calling  as  at  all 
dishonorable,  but  actually  regarded  it  as  a  mark  of  the  highest 
distinction.  Although  living  entirely  without  the  pale  of  the 
law  and  the  usages  of  the  people,  they  were  not  without  some 
recognized  rules  of  life.  Marriage,  as  solemnized  according 
to  the  different  religious  faiths  of  India,  was  practically 
unknown  to  them.  As  already  stated,  the  children  born  to 
the  Thugs  were  raised  in  the  worship  of  Kalee,  and  trained  to 
become  active  members  of  the  band.  The  Thugs  belonged  to 
one  of  the  numerous  castes  of  India,  and,  so  far  as  possible, 
restricted  their  numbers  to  that  caste  only.  Sometimes  they 
replenished  their  ranks  from  outside  sources,  but  in  this  the 
greatest  caution  was  observed,  and  no  such  member  was 
admitted  who  had  not  attained  his  majority.  Each  gang  had 
its  Jemadar,  or  leader;  its  Gru,  or  teacher;  its  Sothas,  or 
entrappers ;  its  Bhuttotes,  or  stranglers,  and  its  Lughaees,  or 
grave-diggers. 

Among  the  devotees  of  thuggee,  rank  and  something  like 
aristocracy  existed,  and  these  were  based  upon  ideas  not 
essentially  different  from  those  prevailing  among  Europeans. 
They  recognized  an  aristocracy  of  birth.  After  this  was 
ranked  services  that  had  been  rendered  to  the  order,  the  num¬ 
ber  of  murders  committed  being  the  basis  for  calculating 
merit.  Capacity  was  also  of  great  weight,  and  was  always 
established  by  some  definite  and  positive  proof.  A  noted 
Thug  was  asked  by  one  of  the  Royal  Commission  how  he  had 
managed  to  attain  the  rank  and  dignity  of  Jemadar,  or  leader. 
He  explained  that  any  Thug  could  accomplish  that  who  pos¬ 
sessed  reasonable  ability  and  the  means  to  provide  for  the 
sustenance  of  a  band  for  two  or  three  months.  He  said  fur¬ 
ther  that  men  remarkable  for  physical  strength  sometimes 
attained  the  distinction  on  that  account,  and  that  it  was  fre- 


THE  THUGS  OF  INDIA 


279 


quently  conferred  upon  those  who  could  show  descent  from  a 
line  of  Thugs.  It  thus  appears  that  the  same  three  elements 
that  have  made  rulers  in  all  ages  and  among  all  nations,  were 
recognized  by  these  organized  assassins:  hereditary  succes¬ 
sion,  wealth  and  native  ability.  To  acquire  the  title  of  Subah- 
dar,  or  captain,  an  office  superior  to  that  of  Jemadar,  and 
which  was  not  always  filled,  greater  merit  and  distinction 
were  required.  To  reach  this  eminence,  one  must  possess  all 
three  of  the  qualifications,  viz.,  wealth,  genius  and  high 
descent.  Thus  something  of  politics  was  not  unknown  to  the 
sanguinary  Thugs. 

The  Thugs  had  a  dialect  distinctly  their  own  and  likewise  a 
system  of  cabalistic  signs,  well  understood  by  all  members  of 
the  infamous  order,  and  absolutely  unknown  to  all  others.  A 
few  of  these  secret  methods  were  discovered  by  a  British  com¬ 
mission. 

Caution  was  suggested  by  drawing  the  back  of  the  hand 
outward  from  the  throat  along  the  chin.  When  any  cause  for 
alarm  existed,  the  open  hand  was  passed  over  the  mouth  and 
drawn  slowly  downward.  Should  one  party  of  Thugs  desire 
the  assistance  of  another,  for  instance,  in  the  burial  of  the 
dead,  the  wish  was  indicated  by  certain  marks  made  in  the 
dust  of  the  road.  Any  direction  taken  along  the  highway  was 
indicated  by  drawing  the  naked  feet  through  the  dirt.  Should 
assistance  be  desired  quickly,  the  dust  was  piled  up  at  the  end 
of  a  line  made  by  foot-marks,  or  by  a  hole  dug  in  the  road 
with  the  heel.  Should  the  roads  be  in  such  a  condition  that 
there  was  no  dust  available,  stones  were  brought  into  requisi¬ 
tion,  and  the  same  signs  indicated  by  their  use. 

There  seems  to  have  been  no  well-settled  rule  for  the 
division  of  their  ill-gotten  plunder.  According  to  one  account, 
a  portion  of  it  was  usually  appropriated  to  defraying  the 
expenses  of  religious  ceremonies;  and  sometimes  a  part  was 
also  allotted  for  the  benefit  of  widows  and  families  of  deceased 
members  of  the  gang.  The  residue  of  the  booty,  being 
divided  into  several  parts,  was  generally  shared  as  follows: 
To  the  leader,  two  shares ;  to  the  men  actually  concerned  in 
perpetrating  the  murder,  and  to  the  person  who  mutilated  the 


280 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


dead  body,  each  one  share  and  a  half ;  and  to  the  remainder  of 
the  gang,  each  one  share. 

Both  as  a  religious,  or,  more  properly,  superstitious  creed, 
and  as  a  means  of  acquiring  wealth,  thuggee  was  practiced 
upon  the  water  as  well  as  upon  the  land.  Although  the 
methods  employed  were  necessarily  different  in  many  regards, 
the  controlling  principle  of  action  was  the  same  in  both 
instances;  duplicity  and  fraud  were  always  the  law  and  the 
gospel  of  the  Thug.  The  most  plausible  and  the  most  cruel 
and  treacherous  of  mankind — this  is  the  epitome  of  the  Thugs, 
and  this  characterized  them,  wherever  found. 

In  a  subsequent  volume,  the  author  proposes  to  present 
something  like  a  history  of  piracy,  of  the  dark  and  cruel  deeds 
and  reckless  daring  of  buccaneers  of  all  ages  and  nations. 
Pirates  are  the  marine  “soldiers  of  fortune.”  They  rob  and 
kill,  but  they  do  it  under  an  ensign  that  proclaims  their  dark 
character  to  all  upon  the  high  seas.  More  than  that,  they 
engage  in  open  fight,  and  risk  their  own  lives  in  the  hope  of 
taking  others  and  securing  coveted  plunder.  The  Thugs  who 
operated  upon  the  rivers  of  India  were  pirates,  in  that  they 
killed  and  robbed,  but  in  no  other  regard.  To  designate  them 
by  that  name  would  be  to  cast  a  slur  upon  Kydd  and  Morgan. 
This  may  seem  an  exaggeration,  but  we  must  remember  that 
there  are  gradations  in  crime  as  well  as  in  virtue,  and  that 
some  human  monsters  have  lived  who  have  not  only  disgraced 
mankind,  but  appear  to  have  out-deviled  the  devil. 

At  one  time  the  principal  rivers  of  India  fairly  swarmed 
with  thieves  and  assassins.  Like  land  Thugs,  they  usually 
operated  in  large  parties,  to  the  end  that  surprises  might  be 
avoided  and  no  possible  chance  be  given  the  victims  they  had 
marked  for  slaughter.  These  parties  were  divided,  after  the 
manner  of  an  army,  into  small  bands,  each  charged  with  the 
performance  of  a  special  task.  It  will  be  seen  that  this  “busi¬ 
ness”  was  quite  complicated  and  involved  the  investment  of 
considerable  capital.  As  a  first  requirement,  a  large  number 
of.  boats,  properly  equipped  and  manned  with  a  sufficient 
number  of  Thugs,  was  indispensable.  One  division  of  the 
party  were  allotted  comparatively  innocent  tasks.  These 


\ 


THE  THUGS  OF  INDIA 


281 


were  dressed  in  the  conventional  garb  of  boatmen  who  per¬ 
formed  the  ordinary  duties  of  men  of  their  class.  Another 
detachment  consisted  of  apparent  patrons  of  the  boat  and 
passed  as  respectable  travelers.  The  boats  operated  by  the 
Thugs  came  in  free  competition  with  those  of  honest  boatmen. 
They  were  kept  scrupulously  clean,  and  in  no  regard  suffered 
by  comparison  with  those  of  others.  The  well-dressed  false 
patrons  of  the  boats  were  either  traveling  on  important  busi¬ 
ness,  or,  more  frequently,  either  on  a  pilgrimage  to  some 
sacred  shrine,  or  returning  from  the  performance  of  such  a 
religious  duty. 

The  Sothas  constituted  one  of  the  most  important  divisions 
of  the  band.  To  them  was  intrusted  the  task  of  finding  out 
wealthy  travelers  and  inducing  them  to  travel  by  water,  if 
they  had  decided  to  make  a  journey  on  land,  and,  as  a  matter 
of  course,  to  take  passage  in  some  particular  boat.  These 
men  were  the  real  “fine- workers”  of  the  enterprise,  and  could 
have  given  most  valuable  points  to  the  “confidence  men”  who 
infest  our  modern  cities.  Having  somehow  struck  up  a  casual 
acquaintance  with  the  selected  victim,  they  adroitly  learned 
in  what  direction  he  was  traveling,  his  business,  the  amount  of 
money  or  valuables  he  had  with  him,  and  all  the  information 
that  might  prove  of  value.  This  done,  they  suggested  that 
they  were  going  to  the  same  place  and  usually  succeeded  in 
inducing  their  companion  to  accompany  them ;  in  which  event 
he  was  taken  to  the  wharf  where,  seemingly  by  pure  coinci¬ 
dence,  a  fine  boat  was  about  to  start,  either  up  or  down  the 
river,  as  the  Sothas,  or  entrappers,  indicated  by  their  cabal¬ 
istic  signs. 

It  may  appear  strange  that  these  wretches  could  succeed  in 
deluding  men  of  intelligence  and  experience,  at  a  time  when 
mysterious  disappearances  of  travelers  were  extremely  com¬ 
mon.  It  must  be  remembered  that  the  Thugs  were  a  most 
secret  society  of  whose  operations  little  was  actually  known 
and  whose  very  existence  was  doubted,  and  even  scoffed  at, 
by  many.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  we  know  vastly  more  of 
thuggee  than  did  well-informed  people  of  India  a  century  ago. 
The  discovery  of  a  dead  body  in  a  well  or  the  disappearance  of 


282 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


a  wealthy  traveler  was  set  down  usually  to  the  score  of  mur¬ 
der,  it  is  true,  but  not  to  the  operation  of  an  organized  band. 
Besides,  the  entrappers  were  exceedingly  subtle  and  adroit. 
Trained  from  childhood  in  the  art  of  deception,  which  they 
regarded  as  one  of  the  highest  functions  of  religion,  these  men 
had  no  end  of  expedients,  and  could  readily  adapt  themselves 
to  any  conditions  that  might  arise,  and  were  thus  more  than  a 
match  for  those  they  were  likely  to  encounter. 

When  a  Sotha  and  his  victim  presented  themselves  at  the 
boat,  they  were  invariably  told  that  passage  could  not  be 
secured.  We  generally  yearn  after  the  unattainable  and  will 
struggle  for  that  which  is  withheld,  and  in  doing  so  lose  sight 
of  its  real  nature.  Under  the  entreaties  of  the  Sotha,  to  which 
were  frequently  added  those  of  his  dupe,  the  captain  of  the 
boat  would  reluctantly  yield,  the  passengers  would  come  on 
board,  and  the  voyage  begin.  No  sooner  had  the  boat  reached 
a  position  secure  from  observation  than  the  well-dressed  trav¬ 
elers  came  forward,  and  began  singing  and  playing  upon 
various  musical  instruments  and  raising  a  terrible  din,  under 
cover  of  which  the  uususpecting  traveler,  or  travelers — for 
often  several  victims  had  been  secured — were  strangled,  their 
rifled  bodies  being  thrown  into  the  river,  where  they  were 
free  to  sink  or  swim,  so  far  as  the  assassins  cared ;  for  floating 
dead  bodies  attracted  little  curiosity  or  sympathy,  and,  viewed 
through  the  fatalistic  eyes  of  the  Hindoo,  had  met  the  fate 
provided  by  him  from  the  beginning.  This  “business”  dis¬ 
patched  and  the  booty  either  divided  or  given  to  the  proper 
agent  to  dispose  of,  the  boat  would  make  for  another  village, 
where  fresh  victims  might  well  be  in  waiting  to  take  a  passage 
for  their  last  earthly  voyage. 

Taken  for  all  in  all,  the  Thugs  were  the  most  successful 
and  by  far  the  best  organized  of  all  the  thieves  and  murder¬ 
ers  that  have  ever  banded  together  for  purposes  of  crime. 
Over  all  other  efforts  at  banded  villainy,  thuggee  possessed 
this  one  decided  advantage ;  superstition  was  so  adroitly 
blended  with  cupidity  as  to  render  the  two  practically  insepar¬ 
able.  The  love  of  money  is  one  of  the  strongest  passions  that 
controls  and  very  frequently  debases  human  nature,  and, 


THE  THUGS  OF  INDIA 


283 


when  skilfully  mingled  with  religious  fanaticism,  or  something 
that  stands  for  it,  and  takes  its  place,  produces  a  compound 
that  succeeds  where  either  alone  would  fail,  besides  reducing 
to  an  absolute  minimum  the  chances  of  detection,  by  sealing 
the  mouths  of  all  concerned  in  the  revolting  trade. 

The  exact  origin  of  this  religio-murder  society  is  lost  in 
antiquity,  its  secrets  having  been  usually  well  kept.  Compar¬ 
atively  recent  investigations  have,  however,  thrown  a  good 
deal  of  light  upon  the  subject,  and  the  professed  theories  of 
the  organization  are  now  fairly  well  understood.  The  Thugs 
always  claimed  that  the  promptings  of  religion,  not  the  pas¬ 
sion  of  avarice,  were  the  causes  of  their  peculiar  and  murder¬ 
ous  practices.  That  all  Thugs  were  sincere  in  this  profession 
is,  of  course,  absurd,  yet  it  seems  clear  that  the  great  body  of 
them  actually  believed  that  murder  was  an  exercise  of  reli¬ 
gion.  We  here  find  the  homicidal  impulse  elevated  to  a  fore¬ 
most  place  among  the  motives  and  passions  that  influence  and 
control  mankind.  From  childhood  it  was  developed  and  edu¬ 
cated,  mingled  with  the  proper  proportion  of  cupidity  and 
solidified  into  the  cornerstone  of  a  most  malignant  supersti¬ 
tion.  In  a  preceding  chapter  it  was  pointed  out  that  the 
impulse  to  take  life  is  constantly  subdued  among  Christian 
people,  in  consequence  of  which,  most  of  them  are  not  con¬ 
scious  that  such  a  disposition  lurks  somewhere  within  their 
hearts.  We  now  see  what  results  from  a  reverse  of  this 
method;  how  the  encouragement  and  development  of  the 
homicidal  impulse  makes  men  professional  murderers,  who  not 
only  gloat  over  their  dark  deeds,  but  justify  and  exalt  them  as 
necessary  parts  of  what  they  regard  as  genuine  religion. 

In  a  certain  sense,  the  faith  and  practices  of  thuggee  are 
similar  to  that  practiced  by  Raoul  Croc,  alias  Gottlieb  Rin- 
halter,  whose  rather  remarkable  efforts  to  carry  into  practical 
operation  the  theories  and  suggestions  of  Malthus,  are 
recounted  in  a  preceding  chapter.  Kalee,  the  patron  goddess 
of  the  Thugs,  and  the  wife  of  the  god  Siva,  was  the  deity  of 
destruction,  as  Croc  was  its  apostle.  In  the  name  of  this  god¬ 
dess  the  Thugs  exercised  their  profession,  and  to  her  they 
ascribe  its  origin.  Although,  as  already  remarked,  Kalee  long 


284 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


ago  ceased  to  aid  her  votaries  in  disposing  of  their  victims,  she 
did  not,  according  to  the  belief  of  the  Thugs,  refuse  them 
assistance.  The  legend,  believed  by  all  orthodox  Thugs,  is 
that  Kalee  at  one  time  determined  to  rid  the  world  of  its 
abominations,  and  proposed  to  do  this  through  the  process  of 
murder.  Her  typical  gifts  to  her  votaries  were  one  of  her 
teeth,  to  be  used  as  a  pickaxe  for  digging  graves;  a  rib,  for  a 
knife,  and  a  portion  of  one  of  her  undergarments  from  which 
to  make  a  noose  to  be  used  as  an  instrument  of  strangulation. 
This  legend  explains  the  extreme  veneration  of  the  Thugs  for 
the  pickaxe.  The  manufacture  of  this  instrument  was  super¬ 
intended  with  the  greatest  care.  When  completed  it  was  not 
ready  for  use  in  digging  the  graves  of  people  whose  lives  had 
been  sacrificed  to  the  goddess,  until  it  had  been  consecrated  to 
her  service  by  appropriate  ceremonies.  One  part  of  these 
exercises  consisted  in  breaking  a  cocoanut  with  the  instru¬ 
ment,  after  which  the  entire  band  prostrated  themselves  and 
offered  up  what  passed  with  them  as  a  religious  worship. 

The  keeper  of  the  Great  Seal  of  England  is  not  selected 
with  more  care  than  was  employed  in  securing  a  proper  cus¬ 
todian  for  the  consecrated  pickaxe  of  a  band  of  Thugs.  The 
person  chosen  was  thus  honored  because  he  was  supposed  to 
possess  certain  traits  of  character,  among  them  being  shrewd¬ 
ness,  courage  and  sobriety.  While  on  a  journey,  the  sacred 
tool  remained  in  his  exclusive  custody,  but  when  the  band 
went  into  camp  it  was  always  deposited  in  the  earth,  where  it 
was  supposed  to  remain  under  the  special  protection  of  the 
goddess.  The  point  was  invariably  turned  toward  the  direc¬ 
tion  in  which  the  party  proposed  to  proceed ;  these  wretches 
cherishing  absolute  confidence  that  should  Kalee  consider 
another  course  preferable,  the  point  would  be  found,  when  the 
utensil  was  dug  up,  to  have  veered  about  so  as  to  indicate  the 
divine  will.  It  is  said  that  sometimes  Thugs,  while  halting  for 
rest,  were  accustomed  to  throw  the  axe  into  a  well;  and  a 
received  superstition  was  that  when  wanted  it  would  arise  of 
itself,  if  summoned  in  proper  form. 

There  was  no  more  sacred  spot  on  earth  than  that  wherein 
the  consecrated  pickaxe  was  buried.  The  ground  covering  it 


THE  THUGS  OF  INDIA 


285 


must  not  be  stepped  upon,  and  an  unclean  animal  must  on  no 
account  be  permitted  to  approach  it.  After  having  been  used 
in  digging  a  grave  it  was  thoroughly  purified  by  washing  on 
each  occasion.  Should  the  sacred  implement  fall  from  the 
hand  of  the  man  to  whose  care  it  was  intrusted,  dismay  and 
consternation  seized  the  entire  band.  Such  an  accident  was 
regarded  as  an  omen  of  some  terrible  evil  about  to  befall 
either  the  individual  himself,  or  the  whole  company.  It 
might  indicate  the  death  of  the  man  whose  sacrilegious  care¬ 
lessness  had  permitted  such  an  occurrence,  or  it  might  be  an 
indication  that  some  dire  reverse  was  to  overtake  the  fortunes 
of  the  assassins.  The  unlucky  custodian  was  at  once  deprived 
of  his  high  office,  and  the  pickaxe  was  invariably  consecrated 
anew.  An  oath  taken  upon  it  was  considered  the  most  solemn 
obligation  known  to  these  murderers,  if,  indeed,  it  were  not 
the  only  one  which  could  be  said  really  to  bind  their  con¬ 
science,  if  conscience  they  had.  In  fact,  so  great  was  the 
veneration  of  the  Thugs  for  this  instrument,  divinely 
appointed  to  be  used  in  their  villainous  pursuits,  that  in  com¬ 
parison  it  might  almost  be  said  that  the  sacred  water  of  the 
Ganges  was  impure  to  the  Hindoos  and  the  Koran  a  blasphe¬ 
mous  book  to  the  Mohammedans. 

During  the  course  of  the  investigation  set  on  foot  by  the 
English  government  into  the  particulars  and  practices  of  the 
Thugs  a  witness  said,  in  answer  to  a  question  put  to  him  by  a 
British  officer  touching  the  pickaxe:  “Did  we  not  worship  it 
every  seventh  day?  Is  it  not  our  standard?  Is  its  sound  ever 
heard  when  digging  graves  by  any  one  but  a  Thug?  Can  any 
man  ever  swear  to  a  falsehood  upon  it?’’  Another  Thug, 
speaking  upon  the  same  subject  during  the  progress  of  the 
same  investigation,  said:  “How  can  we  dig  graves  with  any 
other  instrument?  This  is  the  one  appointed  by  Kalee  and 
consecrated,  and  we  should  never  have  survived  an  attempt  to 
use  any  other.  No  man  but  a  Thug  who  has  been  a  Strangler, 
and  is  remarkable  for  his  cleanliness  and  decorum,  is  per¬ 
mitted  to  carry  it.  ’’ 

As  already  indicated,  the  Thugs  paid  a  great  deal  of  atten¬ 
tion  to  the  education  of  their  children,  who  from  birth  were 


286 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


consecrated  to  the  worship  and  service  of  Kalee.  The  women, 
though  taking  no  active  part  in  murder,  were  fully  as 
depraved  as  their  male  associates,  a  mother’s  greatest  ambition 
being  that  her  child  might  rise  to  a  high  position  in  the  order. 
Deceit  being  the  foundation  of  all  their  practices,  they  began 
by  imposing  it  upon  their  children,  who  were  not  at  once  initi¬ 
ated  into  the  awful  crimes  perpetrated  by  their  elders.  They 
were  kept  ignorant  as  to  murder  for  some  years.  In  the 
meantime  their  cupidity  was  excited  and  developed  by  giving 
them  portions  of  the  spoils  taken  from  victims.  The  source  of 
the  supplies  was  not  made  known  to  the  infants,  who,  how¬ 
ever,  gradually  began  to  understand  the  real  business  of  the 
band.  In  this  way,  theft  and  murder,  so  far  from  being 
revolting,  became  decidedly  attractive  to  the  youthful  Thugs ; 
indeed,  crime  came  to  be  a  part  of  their  very  nature.  Associ¬ 
ated  as  they  were  with  mysterious  rites  and  superstitions, 
these  children  may  be  said  to  have  literally  inherited  the 
passion  for  murder. 

A  system  so  diametrically  opposed  to  that  taught  by 
Christians  and  absorbed  by  the  little  ones  at  their  mother’s 
knees,  can  hardly  be  conceived  of  as  recently  existing  in  full 
force,  and  still  remaining  in  some  parts  of  India;  yet  the 
authority  for  the  statements  we  have  made  is  unquestioned. 

The  position  of  Bhuttote,  or  strangler,  one  of  the  most 
important  in  the  entire  organization,  was  not  easy  of  attain¬ 
ment,  and  an  applicant  must  have  been  a  novitiate  for  some 
time,  before  he  could  aspire  to  the  high  honor.  If  any  repug¬ 
nance  to  murder  had  survived  the  teaching  of  his  childhood  it 
must,  first  of  all,  be  absolutely  overcome.  This  accomplished, 
he  applied  to  the  Guru,  or  teacher,  of  the  band.  This  word 
seems  to  be  derived  from  “gur,  ”  a  kind  of  coarse  sugar  used 
in  initiatory  ceremonies  by  which  the  teacher  was  conse¬ 
crated.  The  Guru,  satisfied  that  the  applicant  was  a  fit  sub¬ 
ject  for  advancement,  at  once  proceeded  to  instruct  him  in  the 
science  of  strangulation.  This  meant  a  long  course  of  pre¬ 
paratory  study  and  practice.  His  first  duties  were  those  of  a 
scout,  then  he  was  advanced  to  the  position  of  grave-digger 
and  then  a  holder  of  limbs. 


THE  THUGS  OF  INDIA 


287 


The  applicant  being  previously  prepared  for  the  high  dignity, 
a  victim  was  selected  for  his  first  effort.  Care  was  exercised 
to  obtain  one  easy  to  dispatch,  by  reason  of  age  or  weakness; 
furthermore,  the  time  was  so  arranged  that  he  could  be 
attacked  immediately  after  being  aroused  from  a  sound  sleep, 
and  was,  in  consequence,  somewhat  bewildered. 

Before  proceeding  to  the  commission  of  the  assassination, 
the  goddess  was  invoked  to  give  an  auspicious  sign,  and 
should  it  be  concluded  that  this  supplication  had  met  with  a 
favorable  response,  the  murderers,  in  almost  Satanic  glee, 
repaired  to  the  place  where  the  selected  victim,  all  unconscious 
of  danger,  was  soon  to  meet  a  horrible  and  unlooked-for 
death.  The  Guru,  facing  toward  the  west,  next  tied  a  knot  in 
one  corner  of  a  handkerchief,  in  which  he  enclosed  a  rupee. 
This  knot  was  always  of  a  peculiar  description,  and  the  priv¬ 
ilege  of  tying  it  was  confined  to  those  who  had  been  regularly 
initiated  into  the  order  of  Stranglers ;  in  fact,  the  ability  to  tie 
such  a  knot  was  regarded  as  an  indubitable  mark  of  regular 
initiation,  and  the  handkerchief  so  knotted  may  be  almost 
spoken  of  as  the  ribbon  of  the  order  to  which  its  possessor 
belonged. 

This  accomplished,  the  sleeping  victim  was  aroused  by  the 
novice,  who  was  expected  to  be  absolutely  pitiless  and  remorse¬ 
less  in  accomplishing  his  fiendish  design.  In  this  regard  prob¬ 
ably  no  apprentice  ever  disgraced  his  Guru,  for  in  his 
depraved  estimation  the  act  was  one  that  introduced  him  into 
full  membership  in  the  most  honorable  society  on  earth.  The 
act  completed,  the  new  Bhuttote  paid  homage  to  his  father  in 
crime,  and  likewise  to  the  members  of  his  family.  After  the 
first  murder,  Kalee  was  again  invoked  that  she  might  indicate 
by  some  well  understood  sign  or  incident  that  the  graduate  in 
crime  had  found  favor  in  her  eyes.  This  seen  and  recog¬ 
nized,  the  elated  assassin  hastened  to  untie  the  knot  tied  in 
the  handkerchief  by  the  Guru  and  remove  the  rupee  he  had 
placed  there.  This  coin,  together  with  any  other  money  the 
now  full-fledged  assassin  possessed,  was  at  once  presented  to 
the  Guru,  who,  after  reserving  one  rupee  for  gur  to  be  used 
in  a  subsequent  religious  ceremony,  expended  the  remainder 


288 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


for  sweetmeats,  upon  which  the  parties  proceeded  to  regale 
themselves. 

Certain  classes  and  castes  were  exempt  from  all  danger  of 
death  or  robbery  at  the  hands  of  the  Thugs.  Many  bands 
never  took  the  life  of  a  woman.  A  Behar  Thug,  being  inter¬ 
rogated  by  a  member  of  the  Royal  English  Commission  as  to 
the  practice  of  his  gang  in  this  respect,  answered  with  much 
warmth:  “Strangle  women?  Never!  We  would  not  murder 
a  woman  if  she  had  a  lac  of  rupees  about  her.”  A  member  of 
the  Doad  association  being  present  during  the  examination, 
promptly  added:  “Nor  would  the  Doad  Thugs  if  she  had  two 
lacs  upon  her.”  Of  the  class  which  enjoyed  the  seeming 
indemnity  were  oil-venders,  musicians,  carpenters,  black¬ 
smiths,  dancing-masters,  washwomen,  poets  and  Ganges 
water-carriers.  The  exemption  of  the  latter  class  was  partic¬ 
ularly  due  to  the  reverence  in  which  Thugs  held  the  water  of 
the  sacred  river,  inasmuch  as  carriers  were  not  exempt  if  their 
pots  were  empty.  Fakirs  were  also  favored  in  the  same  way, 
as  were  also  the  maimed  and  lepers. 

A  strange  illustration  of  the  superstition  governing  the 
worshipers  of  Kalee  is  shown  by  their  respect  for  the  sacred 
cow,  although  in  this  particular  they  were  disposed  to  be 
scrupulous  in  the  observance  of  technicalities.  Thus,  if  the 
sacred  cow  was  found  with  the  person  who  had  been  devoted 
to  death,  much,  art  wTas  sometimes  employed  in  separating  the 
victim  and  the  animal.  It  is  related  that  a  party  of  fourteen 
persons,  who  had  been  designated  for  death,  had  in  their 
possession  a  sacred  cow.  To  have  assassinated  the  proposed 
victim  while  in  company  with  the  cow  would  have  been  an  act 
of  sacrilege  which  even  a  Thug  would  not  have  attempted. 
Therefore,  it  became  necessary  to  detach  the  cow  from  the 
party,  after  which  the  project  might  be  carried  to  completion, 
the  life  of  the  men  being  considered  of  vastly  less  conse¬ 
quence  than  that  of  the  cow.  Accordingly,  the  holy  animal 
was  bought,  the  purchasers  pretending  that  they  had  vowed  to 
present  such  an  offering  at  one  of  the  temples  in  Singapore ; 
and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  so  great  was  the  superstition  of  these 
villains,  they  did  actually  present  the  animal  at  the  shrine 


THE  THUGS  OF  INDIA 


289 


named  before  entering  upon  the  commission  of  the  crime. 
The  obstacle  having  been  thus  removed,  all  of  the  unsuspect¬ 
ing  travelers  were  strangled  by  the  assassins  within  three 
hours  from  the  performance  of  this  act  of  religious  worship, 
and  the  purchase  money  paid  for  the  cow  recovered  with  the 
booty. 

While  the  superstitions  of  the  Thugs  are  all  of  Hindoo 
origin,  they  have  largely  been  adopted  by  the  Mohammedans, 
who,  without  abating  one  jot  of  their  devotion  to  the  Koran, 
still  pay  divine  honors  to  the  Hindoo  goddess  of  destruction. 
To  explain  away  the  seeming  inconsistency  of  this  course, 
they  often  set  up  the  claim  that  Kalee  is  really  identified  with 
Fatima,  the  daughter  of  Mohammed,  and  wife  of  Ali.  They 
say  that  Fatima  invented  the  use  of  the  noose  to  strangle  the 
great  demon,  Rukutbeijdana.  Among  the  Mohammedans, 
the  order  of  Thugs  never  existed,  but  something  of  the  same 
kind  may  be  found  in  the  “Assassins,”  treated  of  in  the  pre¬ 
ceding  chapter. 

Although  this  most  diabolical  society  had  practically  been 
broken  up  in  India,  its  influence  is  still  felt  in  that  vast 
country,  where  assassinations  are  alarmingly  frequent  and 
human  life  is  held  at  a  very  low  price.  Long  years  were 
required  to  develop  thuggee  to  its  full  power,  and,  probably, 
a  corresponding  time  must  elapse  before  the  homicidal  impulse 
is  subdued  among  the  descendants  of  those  who  so  skilfully 
and  cruelly  threw  and  tightened  the  fatal  noose  made  from  the 
hem  of  Kalee’s  garment. 


CHAPTER  XVII 


SECRET  POISONERS 

Poisoning1,  as  a  means  of  taking  human  life,  has  been 
practiced  from  the  earliest  ages.  The  Greek  and  Roman 
writers  mention  several  well  authenticated  instances,  and 
numerous  others  resting  upon  somewhat  doubtful  evidence. 
It  was  not  until  the  seventeenth  century,  however,  that  this 
most  atrocious  practice  became  of  frequent  occurrence.  From 
this  time  it  rapidly  increased,  and  spread  over  the  whole  of 
Western  Europe  like  a  veritable  epidemic.  In  fact,  it  came 
in  time  to  be  elevated  into  a  regular  branch  of  education 
among  nearly  all  who  professed  or  aspired  to  a  knowledge  of 
chemistry,  magic  or  astrology.  Many  of  these  persons  rose  to 
a  somewhat  doubtful  distinction  through  their  ability  to  pre¬ 
pare  poisons  so  slow  and  insidious  in  their  action  as  to  defy  the 
best  medical  skill  of  the  time  to  detect.  So  great  was  the 
demand  for  these  as  a  means  of  “removing”  enemies,  but 
more  particularly  friends,  who  stood  in  the  way  of  a  fortune 
or  a  title,  that  these  vile  concocters  and  distillers  of  poisons 
capable  of  producing  death  so  like  the  ordinary  decay  of  nature 
as  to  arouse  no  suspicion,  amassed  vast  sums  of  money  from 
their  sales,  and  in  some  instances  are  said  to  have  sold,  at 
immense  figures,  the  secret  of  preparing  their  drugs. 

While  the  preparation  of  poisons  was  most  practiced  in 
France  and  Italy,  where  the  processes  came  to  be  looked  upon 
as  an  art,  it  was  by  no  means  confined  to  those  countries,  but 
spread  all  over  Europe.  Shakespeare  represents  the  King  of 
Denmark,  the  father  of  Prince  Hamlet,  as  being  assassinated 
by  a  subtle  and  powerful  poison  poured  into  his  ears,  and  in 
his  great  play  of  Macbeth  describes  a  witch’s  kitchen  where 
poison  was  in  the  process  of  manufacture  from  the  most 

290 


I 


SECRET  POISONERS  291 

detestable  materials.  In  England,  during  the  reign  of  Henry 
VIII.,  an  act  was  passed  ordering  the  employment  of  secret 
poisoning  an  act  of  high  treason.  Of  prominent  instances 
of  poisoning  in  English  history,  may  be  mentioned  the  mur¬ 
der  of  Sir  Thomas  Overbury,  by  Viscount  Rochester  and  his 
wife.  It  was  currently  believed  that  James  I.,  who  died 
March  27,  1625,  was  poisoned  by  Villiers,  Duke  of  Bucking¬ 
ham.  So  strong  was  this  conviction  among  the  people  that 
one  Dr.  Lamb,  a  quack  and  conjurer,  who  was  believed  to 
have  supplied  Buckingham  with  the  poison,  was  seized  by  the 
angry  populace  in  Cheapside,  London,  and  beaten  and  stoned 
to  death. 

It  is  recorded  that  shortly  after  the  beginning  of  the  Chris¬ 
tian  era — A.  D.  26 — Agrippina,  afterwards  Empress  of  Rome, 
refused  to  taste  fruit  offered  her  by  her  husband’s  father,  the 
Emperor  Tiberius,  while  she  was  sitting  at  his  table.  This 
briefly,  but  aptly,  illustrates  the  extent  to  which  this  diabolical 
“art”  was  carried,  even  in  that  remote  age.  At  this  time 
flourished  the  infamous  Locusta,  known  as  a  most  skilful  com¬ 
pounder  of  poisons,  who  is  said  to  have  supplied  Agrippina 
with  material  for  taking  the  lives  of  those  who  stood  in  the 
path  of  her  inordinate  and  wicked  ambitions.  For  infamy  this 
woman  will  compare  with  the  most  detestable  of  her  sex.  On 
her  second  widowhood,  she  induced  the  Emperor  Claudius, 
her  own  uncle,  to  marry  her,  and  espoused  his  daughter  to 
her  son  Nero,  himself  one  of  the  most  depraved  of  mankind. 
In  order  to  bring  Nero  to  the  throne  she  ruined  many  noble 
families,  and  finally  poisoned  her  husband,  Claudius. 

Britannicus,  the  step-brother  of  Nero,  and  rightful  heir  to 
the  throne,  had  been  excluded  through  the  intriguing  of 
Agrippina,  and,  after  a  time,  Nero  decided  to  put  him  to 
death,  Locusta,  it  is  said,  supplying  the  necessary  poison  for 
the  purpose.  The  habit  of  drinking  hot  water,  much  affected 
in  our  own  times  as  a  remedial  agent,  was  very  common  in  the 
times  of  the  Romans.  Britannicus  was  poisoned  at  a  royal 
banquet.  A  slave  brought  water  to  him,  as  was  the  custom, 
but  he  refused  to  drink  it,  declaring  that  it  was  too  hot.  This 
seems  to  have  been  prearranged,  for  in  the  cold  water  that 


292 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


Britannicus  himself  ordered  to  cool  the  draught,  was  contained 
the  poison  of  Locusta.  No  sooner  had  he  partaken  of  the  hot 
water  thus  cooled  than  he  lost  his  voice  and  the  power  of 
respiration.  Sitting  at  an  adjoining  table  were  Nero,  the 
emperor,  together  with  Agrippina,  his  mother,  and  Octavia, 
his  wife.  The  two  women  expressed  emotions  of  horror  and 
fright ;  Nero  alone,  the  originator  of  the  crime,  looked  on,  his 
cold,  glassy  eyes  unmoved  and  his  brutal  heart  untouched. 
After  a  few  moments  of  agony,  Britannicus,  a  youth  of  four¬ 
teen,  said  to  be  of  an  amiable  character,  and  possessed  of 
attractive  manners,  expired.  His  body  was  removed  and  the 
feast  went  on.  The  remains  of  the  murdered  boy  were  buried 
with  pomp,  the  secret  of  his  death  being  known  to  none  but 
the  emperor  and  the  slave  whom  he  had  either  commanded  or 
hired  to  bring  about  the  fatal  catastrophe. 

In  this  connection  it  is  worth  while  to  state  that  post¬ 
mortem  examinations  were,  early  in  the  history  of  the  church, 
regarded  almost  in  the  light  of  sacrilege.  Not  until  the  fif¬ 
teenth  century  did  the  Pope  authorize  the  dissection  and 
examination  of  the  bodies  of  the  dead,  and  even  then  anatomy 
and  pathology  were  in  their  infancy.  The  first  great  anato¬ 
mist,  Vessalius,  did  not  flourish  until  one  hundred  years  later. 

The  life  of  the  infamous  Agrippina  terminated  in  a  manner 
well  befitting  her  evil  career ;  she  was  put  to  death  by  her  son, 
Nero,  in  the  year  60.  Nero  is  said  to  have  himself  experi¬ 
mented  in  the  preparation  of  poisons,  and  to  have  tried  their 
effects  upon  slaves  and  felons,  much  after  the  manner  that 
scientific  men  of  the  present  day  test  any  recent  discovery  or 
experiment  on  a  cat  or  dog. 

The  composition  and  mode  of  preparing  some  of  the  most 
famous,  or  rather  infamous,  of  the  “slow  poisons,”  are  toler¬ 
ably  well  understood,  but  their  publication,  in  a  work  like  the 
present  volume,  could  conserve  no  good  end  and  might  lead 
to  much  harm,  since  an  evil  desire  in  the  heart  of  some  people 
becomes  overpowering  the  moment  a  method  of  carrying  into 
effect  in  a  manner  calculated  to  avoid  suspicion,  is  suggested. 

Among  the  ancient  Greeks  and  Romans,  the  preparation 
and  use  of  poisons  for  taking  human  life  were  well  under- 


SECRET  POISONERS 


293 


stood.  The  former  frequently  executed  condemned  persons 
by  forcing  them  to  take  poison.  The  instance  of  the  great 
philosopher,  Socrates,  who  was  compelled  to  drink  a  decoction 
of  the  poisonous  hemlock,  and  who  died  from  its  effects,  will 
be  remembered  by  all.  The  suicide  of  the  famous  Greek 
orator,  Demosthenes,  and  of  the  Carthaginian  general,  Hanni¬ 
bal,  by  means  of  poison,  will  also  be  recalled. 

The  name  “Borgia”  has  come  to  be  regarded  as  almost 
synonymous  with  the  word  poisoner.  While  many  of  the 
members  of  the  infamous  family  certainly  deserve  all  the 
odium  that  can  be  heaped  upon  them,  and  may  well  be  classed 
among  the  most  debased  and  cruel  of  mankind,  it  does  not 
appear  that  their  practices  differed  essentially  from  those  of 
many  of  their  neighbors,  except  that  they  entered  into  the 
business  in  a  more  wholesale  way.  The  Borgias  were  orig¬ 
inally  Spanish,  but  rose  to  great  prominence  in  Italy  after 
Alfonso  Borgia  was  made  Pope,  as  Calixtus  III.,  in  1455. 
Roderigo  Borgia  ascended  the  papal  throne,  having  corruptly 
and  unblushingly  purchased  his  election  thereto,  in  August, 
1492,  under  the  religious  name  of  Alexander  VI.,  and  proved 
a  disgrace  to  the  Church.  One  of  the  first  acts  of  this  Pope 
was  the  elevation  to  the  rank  of  Archbishop  of  his  son,  Cesare 
Borgia,  one  of  several  children  born  to  him  by  a  famous 
Roman  woman  named  Vanozza.  This  Cesare  was  one  of  the 
most  infamous  wretches  that  ever  lived.  He  seems  to  have 
given  himself  entirely  up  to  debauchery,  while  his  cruel  dispo¬ 
sition  and  strong  impulse  to  take  life,  made  him  a  “profes¬ 
sional  assassin.”  It  is  recorded  of  him  that,  accompanied  by 
young  men  as  depraved  and  reckless  as  himself — if  such  a 
thing  were  possible — he  used  to  traverse  the  streets  of  Rome 
at  night,  killing  citizens  for  the  one  purpose  of  gratifying  his 
lust  for  blood.  He  caused  his  brother,  Giovanna,  who  had 
been  advanced  by  his  father,  the  Pope,  to  be  assassinated. 
Cesare  was  an  accomplished  poisoner,  though  his  wicked  heart 
usually  led  him  to  employ  the  poniard  or  the  sword.  He  was 
of  powerful  build,  and  one  of  the  handsomest  men  in  Rome. 

The  wicked  Roderigo  Borgia,  Pope  Alexander  VI.,  was, 
like  Shakespeare’s  engineer,  “hoist  with  his  own  petard” — in 


294 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


other  words,  he  fell  a  victim  to  poison  that  he  had  caused  to 
be  prepared  to  bring  about  the  death  of  others.  In  1503,  in 
the  seventy-third  year  of  his  life,  and  the  eleventh  of  his 
pontificate,  he  planned,  in  conjunction  with  his  son  Cesare, 
the  death  of  a  large  number  of  cardinals.  His  exact  motives 
can  hardly  be  pointed  out  at  this  day,  though  it  is  probable 
that  the  intended  victims  had  demurred  at  the  wholesale  course 
of  crime  adopted  by  the  Pope  and  his  son.  Alexander  had 
bidden  a  large  number  of  guests  to  attend  a  sumptuous  ban¬ 
quet  at  which  wine,  as  was  the  universal  custom  in  those  days, 
furnished  a  large  portion  of  the  entertainment.  Certain 
decanters  of  wine  had  been  carefully  poisoned,  probably  by 
Cesare,  and  a  wholesale  murder  was  impending.  It  happened, 
however,  whether  through  carelessness  on  the  part  of  the 
Borgias,  or  design  on  that  of  the  servants,  that  the  infamous 
father  and  son  partook  of  the  wine  in  the  poisoned  decanters. 
By  a  singular  anomaly  in  one  so  utterly  depraved  as  Cesare 
Borgia,  he  was  little  addicted  to  the  use  of  wine,  always 
drinking  it  with  greatest  moderation.  This  habit,  peculiar  in 
any  Italian  of  that  day,  was  the  means  of  saving  his  life.  He 
suffered  from  the  effect  of  the  poisonous  draught,  but  speedily 
recovered.  The  Pope,  on  the  contrary,  was  much  addicted  to 
the  use  of  wine,  often  drinking  to  great  excess,  and  before  he 
began  to  suffer  from  the  effects  of  the  poison,  had  imbibed  so 
freely  that  it  was  found  impossible  to  save  his  worse  than  use¬ 
less  life. 

The  career  of  this  man  and  his  son  shows  the  depths  to 
which  men  endowed  with  every  high  faculty  incident  to  human 
nature,  yet  lacking  purity  and  kindness  of  heart,  may  descend. 
With  the  possible  exceptions  of  Nero,  Caligula  and  Commodus, 
no  more  depraved  wretch  than  Alexander  VI.  ever  sat  upon  a 
throne.  Not  only  did  he  disgrace  the  Church,  but  cast  a  dark 
blot  upon  the  very  name  of  humanity. 

Lucretia  Borgia,  sister  of  Cesare,  was  a  woman  of  remark¬ 
able  beauty,  and  foul  as  she  was  fair.  She  led  a  wicked  and 
licentious  life,  and  is  said  to  have  been  one  of  the  greatest 
poisoners  of  the  “age  of  poison”  in  which  she  flourished.  She 
was  three  times  married,  her  second  husband,  Alfonso,  Duke 


SECRET  POISONERS 


295 


of  Biscaglia,  being  assassinated  by  her  brother  Cesare  in  1501. 
To  detail  the  life  of  this  wicked  woman  would  be  but  to 
multiply  hideous  instances  of  crime.  Like  her  brother, 
Cesare,  she  liberally  patronized  learning  and  the  arts,  for 
which  reason,  she  did  not  lack  able  defenders,  who  glossed 
over  many  of  her  wicked  acts. 

To  show  how  poisoning  was  regarded  in  that  age,  a  case 
instanced  in  the  Memoirs  of  Henry  II.,  fifth  Duke  of  Guise, 
may  be  mentioned,  of  a  certain  soldier  who  was  requested  to 
rid  him  of  Gennaro  Annese,  one  of  his  chief  opponents  in 
Naples.  The  means  proposed  to  the  soldier  was  the  poniard, 
from  which  he  shrank  with  every  indication  of  genuine  horror; 
at  the  same  time,  he  calmly  announced  that  he  was  entirely 
willing  to  poison  Annese. 

About  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century  poisoning 
became  so  frequent  and  was  increasing  at  such  an  alarming 
rate,  that,  despite  the  secrecy  imposed  upon  the  confessional 
by  the  rules  of  the  Catholic  Church,  the  clergy  felt  it  their 
duty  to  acquaint  the  Pope,  Alexander  VII.,  with  the  fearful 
extent  of  the  practice.  On  investigation  it  was  found  that 
young  widows  were  extraordinarily  abundant  in  Rome,  and 
that  most  of  the  unhappy  marriages  were  speedily  dissolved  by 
the  sickness  and  death  of  the  husband;  and  further  inquiries 
resulted  in  the  discovery  of  a  secret  society  of  young  matrons, 
which  met  at  the  house  of  an  old  hag,  by  name  Hieronyma  La 
Spara,  a  reputed  witch  and  fortune-teller,  who  supplied  those 
of  them  who  wished  to  resent  the  infidelities  of  their  husbands, 
with  a  slow  poison,  clear,  tasteless  and  limpid,  and  of  strength 
sufficient  to  destroy  life  in  the  course  of  a  day,  week,  month, 
or  number  of  months,  as  the  purchaser  preferred.  The  ladies 
of  Rome  had  been  long  acquainted  with  the  “wonderful 
elixir”  compounded  by  La  Spara,  but  they  kept  the  secret  so 
well,  and  made  such  effectual  use  of  their  knowledge,  that  it 
was  only  after  several  years,  during  which  a  large  number  of 
unsuspecting  victims  had  perished,  and  even  then  through  a 
cunning  artifice  of  the  police,  that  the  whole  proceedings  were 
brought  to  light.  La  Spara  and  thirteen  of  her  companions 
were  hanged,  a  large  number  of  culprits  were  whipped  half 


296 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


naked  through  the  streets  of  Rome,  and  some  ladies  of  the 
highest  rank  suffered  fines  and  banishment. 

Early  in  the  eighteenth  century  a  similar  organization  was 
discovered  in  Naples.  This  was  headed  by  a  woman  of 
seventy  years,  named  Toffania.  This  depraved  old  hag 
manufactured  and  sold  a  poison  said  to  be  similar  to  that  pro¬ 
duced  by  La  Spara  and  very  probably  made  after  the  same 
formula.  She  sold  this  murderous  compound  very  extensively 
in  Naples,  numbering  many  of  the  nobility  among  her  custom¬ 
ers,  under  the  name  of  “Acquetta.  ”  She  also  bestowed  upon 
it  the  name  of  “Manna  of  St.  Nicola  of  Bari,”  which  was  the 
name  by  which  the  so-called  miraculous  oil  of  St.  Nicola,  very 
popular  in  that  day,  was  known.  Thus  disguised,  she  sent  it 
throughout  Italy,  and  was  the  means  of  putting  hundreds  of 
people  to  death.  This  poison,  now  best  known  as  the  “Acqua 
Tofana, ’’  or  “Acqua  di  Perugia,”  is  said  by  Hahnemann  to 
have  been  compounded  of  arsenical  neutral  salts;  while 
Garelli  states  that  it  was  crystallized  arsenic  dissolved  in  a 
large  quantity  of  water ;  but  both  agree  that  it  produced  its 
effect  almost  imperceptibly,  by  gradually  weakening  the 
appetite  and  respiratory  organs.  After  having  directly  or 
indirectly  caused  the  death  of  more  than  six  hundred  persons, 
Toffania  was  at  length  seized,  tried  and  strangled  in  1719. 
From  this  time  the  mania  for  secret  poisoning  gradually  died 
away  in  Italy. 

The  trade  of  poisoning,  although  long  practiced  in  France, 
became  what  may  justly  be  termed  “epidemic”  therein  the 
latter  half  of  the  seventeenth  century.  So  prevalent  was  this 
odious  crime  that  any  one  in  a  position  where  his  death  might 
prove  of  decided  advantage  to  others,  exercised  the  greatest 
precaution  as  to  every  morsel  of  food  he  ate,  and  every  drop 
of  fluid  he  drank.  At  dinners  and  banquets,  following  the 
custom  of  the  ancients,  all  food  was  brought  to  the  table  in 
covered  dishes.  We  still  follow  this  practice  to  a  large  extent, 
our  object  being  to  keep  the  food  warm;  but  the  origin  of  the 
fashion,  or  invention,  was  to  guard  against  the  introduction  of 
poison  into  the  dishes  while  being  carried  from  the  kitchen  to 
the  dining-room  or  banqueting  hall. 


SECRET  POISONERS 


297 


As  an  illustration  of  the  awful  frequency  of  death  from  this 
cause,  mention  may  be  made  of  an  expression  in  a  letter  of 
Madame  de  Sevignk,  written  about  1680,  to  the  effect  that 
“Frenchmen”  and  “Poisoners”  would  soon  become  synony¬ 
mous  terms. 

Perhaps  the  most  notorious  French  poisoner  of  this  time, 
the  reign  of  Louis  XIV.,  was  Marie  Marguerite  Brinvilliers. 
She  was  the  daughter  of  Dreux  d’Aubray,  Lieutenant  of  Paris, 
and  was  carefully  raised  and  well  educated.  Madame  de 
Sevigne,  already  quoted,  refers  to  her  as  mild  and  agreeable 
in  her  manners,  and  offering  no  traces  on  her  beautiful  coun¬ 
tenance  of  the  evil  soul  within.  In  1651  she  was  married  to 
the  Marquis  de  Brinvilliers,  a  loose  and  dissipated  character, 
with  whom  she  lived  most  unhappily  for  some  years.  The 
Marquis  introduced  to  his  wife  the  notorious  Sainte  Croix, 
which  introduction  seems  to  have  been  the  beginning  of  her 
downfall,  which  ultimately  reached  most  appalling  depths. 
Sainte  Croix  had  been  confined  in  an  Italian  prison,  where  he 
formed  the  acquaintance  of  a  skilful  compounder  of  poi¬ 
sons,  named  Exili,  from  whom  he  appears  to  have  learned 
much  of  the  diabolical  art  which  he  later  practiced  in  France. 
Madame  Brinvilliers’  liaisons  with  Sainte  Croix  became  so 
notorious  that  her  father,  M.  d’Aubray,  caused  him  to  be 
thrown  into  the  Bastile  for  a  whole  year.  While  in  the  Bastile 
he  is  said  to  have  obtained  further  instructions  in  the  prepara¬ 
tions  of  poisons.  During  her  lover’s  confinement,  this  detest¬ 
able  and  hypocritical  woman  affected  the  greatest  piety, 
visiting  the  hospitals  and  devoting  all  her  time  to  acts  of 
charity. 

Released  from  the  Bastile,  Sainte  Croix  hastened  to  rejoin  his 
mistress,  whose  devotional  spasm  seems  to  have  terminated 
at  the  same  date.  A  dissolute  spendthrift,  without  means 
of  his  own,  Sainte  Croix  now  threw  himself  upon  Madame 
Brinvilliers,  whose  portion  was  far  from  sufficient  to  support 
his  reckless  extravagance.  Accordingly,  he  set  about  devising 
a  scheme  to  put  himself  in  funds.  His  plan,  while  atrocious  in 
the  extreme,  as  viewed  by  men  possessed  of  the  smallest  spark 
of  humanity,  was  exceedingly  simple  from  the  standpoint  of 


298 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


this  scoundrel.  M.  d’Aubray  was  a  man  of  great  wealth,  and 
his  death,  together  with  that  of  his  two  sons,  would  make 
Madame  Brinvilliers  the  heiress  to  one-half  of  his  estate. 
Such  a  scheme  would  have  staggered  an  ordinary  murderer, 
but  it  was  a  mere  bagatelle  to  this  sanguinary  villain.  He 
hastened  to  communicate  his  plan  to  his  mistress,  who,  so  far 
from  manifesting  any  horror  at  the  prospective  death  of  her 
father  and  two  brothers,  accepted  the  suggestion  with  the 
utmost  complacency,  and  agreed  to  aid  in  its  consummation. 
Poisoning,  as  a  matter  of  course,  was  the  means  decided  upon 
for  the  murders.  Marie  entered  into  the  plan  with  a  gusto 
that  seems  astonishing,  even  in  one  so  depraved.  She  worked 
with  Sainte  Croix  in  compounding  poisons  and  soon  became 
almost  as  expert  as  he. 

The  demonstrating  of  the  effects  of  the  poisons  was 
intrusted  to  Marie.  She  used  to  administer  doses  to  dogs, 
rabbits  and  pigeons.  Afterwards,  to  gain  #  more  definite 
results,  she  bethought  herself  of  her  hospital  experience,  and 
visited  many  of  them,  where  she  administered  doses  of  the 
poison  to  the  sick,  to  whom,  with  apparent  charitable  motives, 
she  brought  soup  and  delicacies.  These  experiments  were 
not  designed  to  kill  the  victims,  but  merely  to  give  her  an 
opportunity  to  study  the  first  effects  of  the  poisons.  After¬ 
wards  she  poisoned  a  pigeon  pie  which  was  eaten  by  guests  at 
her  father’s  table.  That  she  might  fully  master  the  infernal 
art  of  slow  poisoning,  she  procured  an  antidote  from  Sainte 
Croix  and  tried  the  effects  of  the  poison  upon  herself.  Satis¬ 
fied  at  last  that  exactly  the  right  combination  had  been 
secured,  this  most  unnatural  woman  began  her  operations. 
The  first  victim  she  selected  was  her  gray-haired  father,  to 
whom  she  administered  the  first  doses  with  her  own  hand  in 
his  chocolate.  For  eight  months  she  continued  to  alternately 
kiss  and  poison  the  old  man.  At  length  her  patience  became 
exhausted,  and,  at  St.  Croix’s  suggestion,  she  administered  a 
fatal  dose.  His  death  was  apparentlv  the  result  of  disease, 
and  no  suspicion  was  aroused. 

The  two  deeply-grieved  sons  of  the  murdered  man  returned 
home  from  one  of  the  provinces  to  assist  in  the  last  sad  rites 


SECRET  POISONERS 


299 


of  their  dead  parent.  Neither  of  the  murderous  conspirators 
faltered  in  the  execution  of  the  fearful  plan  they  had  deliber¬ 
ately  concocted.  The  arrival  of  the  two  young  men  was  their 
doom.  Sainte  Croix  now  secured  the  assistance  of  a  domestic 
servant,  Juan  Amelin,  alias  Chaussee,  who  assisted  in  admin¬ 
istering  the  poison.  They  proceeded  more  rapidly  than  they 
had  in  the  case  of  the  father,  and  within  six  weeks  both  of  the 
young  men  were  dead. 

These  deaths  excited  some  suspicion,  but,  owing  to  the 
insidious  nature  of  the  agents  employed,  there  was  nothing 
tangible  upon  which  to  base  an  accusation.  But  the  work  was 
not  yet  all  accomplished;  a  sister  of  Marie  remained,  who  was 
entitled  to  one-half  of  the  estate.  Sainte  Croix  had  no  idea  of 
dividing  the  vast  fortune,  and  at  once  took  steps  to  murder 
the  young  lady;  she  seems  to  have  become  suspicious,  how¬ 
ever,  and  saved  her  life  by  promptly  quitting  Paris. 

So  far,  the  wicked  woman  acted  at  the  instigation  of  her 
lover,  but  now  she  conceived  a  plot  of  her  own,  which  was 
the  poisoning  of  her  husband,  the  Marquis  Brinvilliers,  from 
whom  she  was  separated,  but  not  divorced.  Her  motive  in 
committing  this  crime  was  her  ardent  desire  to  marry  Sainte 
Croix.  But  in  this  she  appears  to  have  made  a  decided  mis¬ 
calculation.  Now  that  she  had  sunk  to  his  own  depraved 
level,  her  accomplice  no  longer  cared  for  the  wicked  woman, 
and  had  no  intention  of  marrying  her.  He  seemed  to 
acquiesce  in  her  proposal,  and  undertook  to  further  her  plans. 
Instead  of  doing  this,  however,  he  undertook  to  defeat  her 
murderous  designs.  While  the  Marquise  poisoned  him  one 
day,  Sainte  Croix  administered  an  antidote  the  next.  In  this 
way  his  life  was  saved,  though  his  constitution  was  ruined. 

But  evil  does  not  always  triumph,  and  the  day  of  retribu¬ 
tion  was  at  hand;  soon  after  the  escape  of  the  Marquis  de  Brin¬ 
villiers  from  a  frightful  death,  Sainte  Croix  himself  met  a 
fearful  end,  which  would  seem  to  justify  the  belief  in  “poetic 
justice.”  While  working  in  his  improvised  laboratory,  owing 
to  the  deadly  fumes  constantly  emanating  from  the  poisonous 
material  employed,  Sainte  Croix  was  compelled  to  wear  a 
glass  mask.  On  this  occasion  his  mask  slipped  off  and  he  was 


3°° 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


overcome  by  the  noxious  vapors.  The  following-  day  his  corpse 
was  found  in  a  little  room  in  an  obscure  street  that  he  had 
fitted  up  as  a  laboratory.  As  there  was  nothing  about  his  per¬ 
son  to  indicate  his  identity,  his  body  and  effects  were  taken 
possession  of  by  the  authorities.  Among  other  things  a  small 
box  was  found,  to  which  the  following  remarkable  document 
was  attached : 

“I  humbly  beg,  that  those  into  whose  hands  this  box  may 
fall  will  do  me  the  favor  to  deliver  it  into  the  hands  only  of  the 
Marchioness  de  Brinvilliers,  who  resides  in  the  Rue  Neuve  St. 
Paul,  as  everything  it  contains  concerns  her,  and  belongs  to 
her  alone ;  and  as  besides,  there  is  nothing  in  it  that  can  be  of 
use  to  any  person  but  her.  In  case  she  shall  be  dead  before 
me,  it  is  my  wish  that  it  be  burned,  with  everything  it  con¬ 
tains,  without  opening  or  altering  anything.  In  order  that  no 
one  may  plead  ignorance  I  swear  by  the  God  that  I  adore,  and 
by  all  that  is  held  most  sacred,  that  I  assert  nothing  but  the 
truth;  and  if  my  intentions,  just  and  reasonable  as  they  are, 
be  thwarted  in  this  point  by  any  persons,  I  charge  their  con¬ 
science  with  it,  both  in  this  world  and  that  which  is  to  come, 
in  order  that  I  may  unload  mine.  I  protest  that  this  is  my  last 
will.  Done  at  Paris,  May  25,  1672.  Sainte  Croix.” 

This  box,  being  opened,  was  found  to  contain  several  vials, 
a  number  of  papers  and  a  number  of  powders.  Among  the 
papers  was  found  a  promissory  note  of  the  Marquise  de 
Brinvilliers,  for  thirty  thousand  francs,  payable  to  the  order  of 
Sainte  Croix.  It  also  contained  other  papers  implicating  her 
and  the  servant,  Chaussee,  in  the  recent  murders. 

Learning  of  the  death  of  her  accomplice,  the  Marquise, 
being  unable  to  obtain  possession  of  the  box,  with  the  contents 
of  which  she  seems  to  have  been  familiar,  hurriedly  quitted 
Paris.  The  next  morning  the  police  were  upon  her  track,  but 
she  succeeded  in  eluding  them  and  in  reaching  England.  In 
the  meantime,  Chaussee  was  not  so  fortunate,  being  an  ignor¬ 
ant  man  and  knowing  nothing  of  the  damaging  evidence  in  the 
possession  of  the  police,  and  was  promptly  arrested.  Being 
subjected  to  torture,  Chaussee  made  a  full  confession,  impli¬ 
cating  the  Marquise.  He  was  condemned  and  sentenced  to  be 
broken  on  the  wheel,  and  the  sentence  was  carried  into  execu¬ 
tion  in  March,  1673,  in  the  city  of  Paris. 


SECRET  POISONERS 


301 


The  Marquise  de  Brinvilliers  appears  to  have  resided  for 
some  three  years  in  England,  but  early  in  1676,  thinking  that 
the  rigor  of  the  pursuit  was  over,  and  that  she  would  be  safe 
on  the  continent,  she  went  secretly  to  Liege.  But  the 
authorities  were  on  the  alert,  and  obtained  information  of  her 
movements.  They  located  her  in  Li£ge,  and  sent  an  officer, 
Desgraise  by  name,  to  apprehend  the  murderess.  The  officer 
found  that  she  had  taken  refuge  within  the  walls  of  a  convent, 
where  the  law  could  not  reach  her.  Desgraise,  who  was  a 
detective  and  seems  to  have  been  in  advance  of  his  age,  was  not 
discouraged.  Disguised  as  a  priest,  he  entered  the  convent 
and  obtained  an  interview  with  the  Marquise.  Skilled  in  the 
art  of  flattery,  he  pleased  her  vanity  and  won  her  confidence. 
He  then  proceeded  to  make  love  to  her,  and  finally  succeeded 
in  inducing  her  to  promise  to  meet  him  outside  the  walls  of  the 
convent.  The  foolish  woman  came  promptly  to  keep  her 
appointment,  and  was  at  once  placed  under  arrest. 

She  was  speedily  brought  to  trial,  and  abundant  proof  of 
her  guilt  was  produced.  In  addition  to  the  dying  declaration 
of  Chaussee  and  many  other  incriminating  matters,  a  paper, 
in  her  handwriting,  that  had  been  found  among  the  effects  of 
Sainte  Croix,  distinctly  showed  her  guilt.  In  this  she  detailed 
to  him  the  misdeeds  of  her  life  and  distinctly  referred  to  the 
murder  of  her  father  and  brothers.  No  trial  in  France  ever 
excited  more  universal  interest  than  that  of  this  poisoner. 
The  details  of  her  crimes  were  published  and  eagerly  read  by 
all  classes  of  people.  It  is  said  that  this  wide  publicity 
worked  great  harm  by  suggesting  the  idea  of  secret  poisoning 
to  many  who  had  never  before  thought  of  such  a  thing. 

If  her  crimes  had  been  many  and  atrocious,  her  punishment 
was  surely  heavy.  She  was  found  guilty  in  the  Superior 
Criminal  Court  of  Paris,  on  July  16,  1676,  for  the  murder  of 
her  father  and  brothers.  She  was  condemned  to  be  drawn  on 
a  hurdle,  with  her  feet  bare,  a  rope  about  her  neck,  and  a 
burning  torch  in  her  hand,  to  the  great  entrance  of  the 
cathedral  of  Notre  Dame,  where  she  was  to  make  the  amende 
honorable  in  sight  of  all  the  people ;  to  be  taken  from  thence 
to  the  Place  de  Greve,  and  there  to  be  beheaded.  Her  body 


302 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


was  afterwards  to  be  burned,  and  her  ashes  scattered  to  the 
winds. 

Shortly  before  her  execution  she  made  a  full  confession, 
and  continued  reckless  to  the  very  last.  Madame  de  Sevigne 
says  that,  when  on  the  hurdle,  on  her  way  to  the  scaffold,  she 
entreated  her  confessor  to  exert  his  influence  with  the  execu¬ 
tioner  to  place  himself  next  to  her,  that  his  body  might  hide 
from  her  view  “that  scoundrel  Desgraise,  who  had  entrapped 
her.”  She  also  asked  the  ladies,  who  had  been  drawn  to  their 
windows  to  witness  the  procession,  what  they  were  looking  at, 
adding,  “A  pretty  sight  you  have  come  to  see,  truly!”  She 
laughed  when  on  the  scaffold,  dying  as  she  had  lived,  impen¬ 
itent  and  heartless. 

It  is  said  that  the  Marquise  supplied  poisons  to  others,  and 
several  people  whose  relatives,  standing  between  them  and 
wealth,  had  mysteriously  died,  fell  under  suspicion,  and  some 
were  placed  on  trial.  M.  de  Penautier,  treasurer  of  the 
province  of  Languedoc,  was  thrown  into  the  Bastile,  where  he 
was  confined  for  some  months  on  the  charge  of  poisoning  and 
having  procured  his  material  from  Sainte  Croix  and  de  Brin- 
villiers,  but  was  ultimately  released.  The  Cardinal  de  Bonzy 
was  accused  of  being  an  accomplice  of  Penautier,  for  the 
reason  that  several  people  to  whom  he  was  compelled  to  pay 
annuities  which  were  charged  upon  his  estates,  suddenly  and 
mysteriously  died  one  after  another.  The  cardinal,  in  talk¬ 
ing  of  these  annuities  afterwards,  used  to  say,  “Thanks  to  my 
star,  I  have  outlived  them  all!”  A  wit,  seeing  him  and 
Penautier  riding  in  the  same  carriage,  cried  out,  in  allusion  to 
this  expression,  “There  go  the  Cardinal  de  Bonzy  and  his 
star ! ’  ’ 

And  now  poisoning  became  a  veritable  epidemic  in  France. 
The  mania  spread  to  almost  every  province  and  the  prisons 
were  filled  with  people  accused  of  this  detestable  crime. 
Nearly  every  evil  passion  of  the  human  heart  found  an  outlet 
in  the  use  of  slow  poison,  which  speedily  took  the  place  of 
almost  all  other  means  of  taking  human  life.  To  check  this 
rapidly  growing  evil,  Louis  XIV.  instituted  a  special  court, 
known  as  the  “Chambre  Ardente,”  or  Burning  Chamber,  with 


SECRET  POISONERS 


3°3 


very  extensive  powers  for  the  trial  and  punishment  of 
poisoners. 

At  this  time  two  women  made  themselves  especially 
notorious,  and  were  the  means  of  sending  hundreds  of  people 
to  their  graves.  They  were  named  Lavigoreux  and  Lavoisin, 
and  resided  in  Paris.  They  were  imitators  of  La  Spara,  and 
seemed  to  have  manufactured  essentially  the  same  poisons  and 
disposed  of  them  by  similar  methods.  Their  trade  was  carried 
on  chiefly  with  women  who  wished  a  safe  means  to  dispose  of 
their  husbands,  though  in  some  instances  husbands  bought 
their  poisons  to  destroy  their  wives.  These  women  had  two 
ostensible  callings ;  that  of  midwives  and  fortune-tellers.  In 
their  latter  capacity  they  foretold  to  wives  the  speedy  death  of 
their  husbands,  and  to  needy  relatives  the  approaching  disso¬ 
lution  of  rich  relatives ;  taking  care  at  the  same  time  to  sell, 
at  extravagant  prices,  the  means  of  making  their  prognostica¬ 
tions  “come  true.”  They  used  to  predict  approaching  death 
by  some  ordinary  occurrence,  as  the  breaking  of  china  or 
glassware,  and  then  hire  servants  to  bring  about  the  predicted 
catastrophe  exactly  at  the  appointed  time.  Their  occupation 
as  midwives  possessed  them  of  many  family  secrets  which  they 
did  not  fail  to  use  to  dreadful  advantage. 

How  long  these  monsters  had  carried  on  their  nefarious 
trade  was  never  ascertained.  Their  practices  were  discovered 
near  the  end  of  the  year  1679.  They  were  tried,  convicted, 
and,  on  February  22,  1680,  were  burned  alive  on  the  Place  de 
Greve ;  but  not  until  their  hands  had  first  been  bored  through 
with  red-hot  irons,  and  then  cut  off.  Many  of  their  accom¬ 
plices  and  patrons  throughout  France  were  arrested,  tried  and 
put  to  death  by  hanging  and  burning  at  the  stake.  Within  a 
few  months  not  less  than  fifty  people,  mostly  women,  are  said 
to  have  suffered  death  on  the  charge  of  poisoning. 

The  woman  Lavoisin  kept  a  list  of  the  persons  who  fre¬ 
quented  her  house  for  the  purpose  of  buying  poisons.  Upon 
her  arrest,  this  was  secured  by  the  police,  and  greatly  aided 
in  bringing  her  guilty  accomplices  to  justice.  Three  quite 
illustrious  names  were  found  upon  this  list,  those  of  Marshal 
de  Luxembourg,  the  Countess  de  Soissons  and  the  Duchess  de 


3°4 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


Bouillon.  The  marshal  seems  only  to  have  been  guilty  of  a 
piece  of  discreditable  folly  in  visiting  a  woman  of  this  descrip¬ 
tion,  but  the  popular  voice  at  the  time  imputed  to  him  some¬ 
thing  more  than  folly.  The  author  of  the  “Memoirs  of  the 
Affairs  of  Europe  Since  the  Peace  of  Utrecht,”  says:  “The 
miserable  gang  who  dealt  in  poison  and  prophesy  alleged  that 
he  had  sold  himself  to  the  devil,  and  that  a  young  girl  of  the 
name  of  Dupin  had  been  poisoned  by  his  means.  Among 
other  stories  they  said  that  he  had  made  a  contract  with  the 
devil  in  order  to  marry  his  son  to  the  daughter  of  the  Marquis 
of  Louvois.  To  this  atrocious  and  absurd  accusation  the 
marshal,  who  had  surrendered  himself  at  the  Bastile  on  the 
first  accusation,  replied  with  the  mingled  sentiment  of  pride 
and  innocence:  ‘When  Mathieu  de  Montmorenci,  my  ancestor, 
married  the  widow  of  Louis-le-gros,  he  did  not  have  recourse 
to  the  devil,  but  to  the  states-general,  in  order  to  obtain  for 
the  minor  king  the  support  of  the  house  of  Montmorenci.’ 
This  brave  man  was  imprisoned  in  a  cell  six  feet  and  a  half 
long,  and  his  trial,  which  was  interrupted  for  several  weeks, 
lasted  altogether  fourteen  months.  No  judgment  was  pro¬ 
nounced  upon  him.  ’  ’ 

The  Countess  de  Soissons  was  accused  of  attempting  the 
death  of  the  Queen  of  Spain  by  means  of  “succession 
powders,  ”  as  these  infernal  mixtures  were  sometimes  called. 
She  avoided  a  trial  by  fleeing  to  Brussels,  but  was  never  able  to 
clear  herself  of  the  awful  charge.  The  Duchess  de  Bouillon 
was  confined  for  several  months  in  the  Bastile,  and  finally 
tried  by  the  Chambre  Ardente;  she  was  not  convicted,  and 
was  probably  innocent. 

Notwithstanding  the  extreme  measures  adopted  by  the 
government  to  bring  poisoners  to  justice,  and  the  terrible 
punishment  meted  out,  it  was  not  until  two  years  after  the 
execution  of  the  two  noted  Parisian  poisoners  that  the  horrid 
mania  was  abated.  It  is  said  that  more  than  one  hundred 
persons  were  hanged  or  burned  before  this  was  effected. 
Owing  to  the  subtle  nature  of  the  medium  employed,  it  is  cer¬ 
tain  that  but  a  very  small  proportion  of  those  guilty  of  poison¬ 
ing  were  ever  detected  and  brought  to  justice.  The  aggregate 


SECRET  POISONERS 


305 


of  murders  must  have  been  enormous,  and  shows  the  low  esti¬ 
mate  in  which  human  life  was  held  two  centuries  ago.  The 
history  of  the  “slow  poisoners”  also  demonstrates  that  there 
is,  for  lack  of  a  better  term,  what  may  be  called  a  “contagion 
of  crime.”  This  is  difficult  to  account  for,  unless  on  the 
theory  that  familiarity  robs  death  and  crime  of  much  of  their 
horrors,  and  that  a  bad  example  is  more  commonly  followed 
than  a  good  one. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  present  century,  many  districts  of 
India  were  infested  with  professional  poisoners.  This  class 
embraced  both  Hindoos  and  Mohammedans.  They  resembled 
the  Thugs,  whose  operations  are  described  in  the  preceding 
chapter,  in  that  their  trade  was  murder,  but,  unlike  them, 
never  operated  in  bands,  or  even  pairs,  but  carried  on  the 
nefarious  work  singly.  A  fundamental  principle  upon  which 
these  wretches  operated  seems  to  have  been  that  it  was  folly 
to  trust  an  accomplice  when  a  murder  was  to  be  committed. 
A  given  district  was  usually  selected  by  poisoners,  generally  a 
territory  covering  an  area  of  about  one  hundred  miles  in 
radius,  ahd  after  three  or  four  murders  had  been  committed 
therein,  a  move  was  made  to  another  locality.  Nearly  all  the 
victims  were  selected  from  the  lower  castes,  owners  and 
drivers  of  carts  being  among  those  most  frequently  devoted  to 
death.  The  poison  most  commonly  used  was  arsenic,  although 
sometimes  the  assassins  employed  Daturia,  a  deadly  drug 
prepared  from  the  thorn  tree,  whose  nature  and  effects  are 
similar  to  those  of  belladona.  It  was  not  a  difficult  task  to 
induce  a  driver  to  drink,  nor  was  it  hard  to  dispose  of  his 
effects,  particularly  through  the  agency  of  a  broker. 

As  a  rule  the  poisoners  affected  the  dress  and  ostensible 
calling  of  small  merchants,  particularly  dealers  in  grain. 
Arriving  at  a  village,  the  wretch  would  inquire  for  a  yoke  of 
oxen  and  a  cart,  which  he  wished  to  hire  to  bring  from  the 
country  grain  or  some  other  commodity,  which  he  represented 
himself  as  buying.  He  would  always  select  the  best  cattle  he 
could  procure,  and  would  disarm  any  suspicion  that  might 
arise  in  the  mind  of  the  simple  villager,  by  paying  the  hire  in 
advance  and  stipulating  that  the  owner,  or  some  one  repre- 


3°6 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


senting  him,  should  accompany  the  merchant  to  drive  the 
team. 

The  social  customs  of  India  permitted  considerable  famili¬ 
arity  between  a  traveler  and  his  driver.  The  two  conversed 
constantly,  and  very  commonly  ate  and  drank  together.  The 
latter  custom  afforded  many  opportunities  for  the  administra¬ 
tion  of  poison.  It  was  rarely,  however,  that  any  attempt  was 
made  upon  the  life  of  the  driver  until  the  district  from  which 
he  came  had  been  left  behind.  When  the  victim  began  to 
feel  the  effect  of  the  drug,  he  was  persuaded  to  lie  down  in  the 
bottom  of  the  cart,  the  traveler  offering  to  act  as  driver. 
Should  the  first  dose  not  prove  fatal,  another  was  administered 
under  the  guise  of  medicine. 

Like  the  Thugs,  the  Poisoners  had  peculiar  methods  of 
disposing  of  the  bodies  of  their  victims.  Very  frequently  the 
murderer  would  place  the  body  under  a  convenient  tree  by  the 
roadside  in  an  attitude  of  sleep,  and  cover  it  with  a  sheet. 
When  discovered,  the  natural  inference  would  be  that  the 
corpse  was  that  of  a  traveler  who  had  lain  down  to  rest  and 
had  expired  from  natural  causes.  It  frequently  happened, 
however,  that  the  surroundings  were  not  favorable  to  such  a 
disposition  of  the  body,  in  which  event  the  Poisoner  would 
sometimes  carry  it  around  in  his  cart  for  several  days  until  a 
good  opportunity  presented  itself  for  disposing  of  it.  Indeed, 
some  Poisoners  adopted  this  method  as  safer  than  leaving  the 
body  by  the  roadside,  for  the  reason  that  decomposition  would 
render  identification  difficult,  if  not  impossible.  Many  years 
ago  a  notorious  Poisoner  was  captured  and  confessed  to  the 
commission  of  not  less  than  eighteen  murders  of  this  character, 
even  gloating  over  the  recounting  of  each  scene.  This  villain 
was  a  Mohammedan,  and  carried  the  poison  in  a  silver  charm 
tied  on  his  arm. 

The  extent  to  which  secret  poisoning  prevailed  in  India 
was  never  ascertained,  for  the  reason  that  the  existence  of 
these  wretches  was  long  unknown,  but  beyond  a  doubt  vast 
numbers  of  people  were  murdered,  usually  for  the  possession 
of  cattle  and  such  small  effects  as  the  drivers  had  about  their 
persons.  Owing  to  radical  action  on  the  part  of  the  govern- 


SECRET  POISONERS 


3°7 


ment  of  Great  Britain,  the  Poisoners,  like  the  Thugs,  have 
well-nigh  disappeared  from  India,  although  their  craft  is 
doubtless  practiced  to  some  extent,  even  at  the  present  day. 

About  fifty  years  ago  there  was  a  decided  revival  of  slow 
poisoning  in  England,  and  a  large  number  of  cases  were 
discovered,  and  many  of  the  perpetrators  punished.  It 
assumed  almost  the  form  of  a  mania,  one  wretch  imitating 
the  methods  of  others.  As  a  rule,  these  professional  poisoners 
were  women  of  the  lowest  order,  their  first  victims  being 
usually  their  husbands  and  frequently  their  children.  A  more 
abhorrent  motive  for  crime  can  hardly  be  imagined  than  was 
usually  present  in  these  cases — the  desire  to  obtain  from  clubs 
to  which  they  had  subscribed,  money  for  the  burial  of  their 
victims.  The  discovery  of  these  infernal  practices  led  to  the 
enactment  of  laws  greatly  restricting  the  sale  of  arsenic  and 
other  poisons.  This  mania  was  abated  in  a  few  years,  and 
poisoning  is  not  now  especially  frequent  in  England. 

The  system  of  insuring  the  lives  of  children  for  a  small 
amount,  upon  the  payment  of  trifling  sums  weekly,  for  the 
express  purpose  of  paying  the  expenses  of  funerals,  in  cases  of 
death,  the  author  regards  as  offering  inducements  to  unnat¬ 
ural  parents  to  poison  children  whom  they  regard  as  trouble¬ 
some.  Several  suspicious  cases  have  already  arisen,  and,  in 
some  States,  legislative  action,  looking  to  the  suppression  of 
the  practice,  has  been  taken. 

Discoveries  in  chemistry  during  recent  years,  by  which  the 
presence  of  poison  in  the  human  system  can  be  almost  cer¬ 
tainly  detected,  have  greatly  discouraged  its  use  as  a  secret 
means  of  taking  life,  yet  a  large  number  of  recent  cases  could 
readily  be  cited.  It  is  safe  to  predict  that  the  “epiderqics”  of 
poisoning  which  we  have  detailed  in  the  present  chapter  will 
never  be  repeated. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


DUELING 

The  practice  of  dueling,  in  the  sense  in  which  the  term  is 
at  present  employed,  is  of  comparatively  modern  origin.  The 
Latins  used  the  word  from  which  we  derive  “duel”  to  desig¬ 
nate  a  war  between  two  nations.  Fights  to  the  death  have 
been  common  since  the  beginning  of  the  world’s  history;  but 
in  these  the  meeting  by  appointment,  each  combatant  being 
supported  by  friends  called  “seconds, ”  was  absent.  Among 
the  earliest  of  these  combats  may  be  mentioned  the  one 
between  David  and  Goliath.  And,  singularly  enough,  in  this 
may  be  found  the  principle  which  was  at  the  root  of  the  prac¬ 
tice  when  it  was  first  definitely  established,  the  date  of  which 
may  be  put  down  as  at  the  beginning  of  the  seventh  century 
of  the  Christian  era.  The  Israelites  and  Philistines  were  at 
war  and  the  armies  of  each  were  arrayed  for  battle,  a  valley 
separating,  when  Goliath,  the  mighty  giant  of  the  Philistines, 
issued  his  challenge  for  a  single  combat  with  the  mightiest 
champion  the  enemy  could  send  against  him.  David,  the  son 
of  Jesse,  a  young  man,  presented  himself.  When  Saul  sought 
to  dissuade  him  from  the  seemingly  hopeless  undertaking,  he 
answered:  “The  Lord  that  delivered  me  out  of  the  paw  of  the 
lion,  and  out  of  the  paw  of  the  bear,  He  will  deliver  me  out  of 
the  hand  of  this  Philistine.”  And  Saul  said  unto  David:  “Go, 
and  the  Lord  be  with  thee.” 

This  brief  colloquy  furnishes  the  key  to  the  beginning  of 
dueling.  It  was  a  general  belief,  religious  or  superstitious, 
that  the  Almighty  would  interfere,  directly  and  miraculously, 
in  the  conflict,  to  preserve  the  innocent  and  punish  the  guilty; 
in  other  words,  that  he  who  was  the  weakest  physically,  or 

the  least  trained  or  poorest  equipped  for  the  conflict,  so 

308 


DUELING 


309 


long  as  he  had  God  on  his  side,  would  surely  triumph.  In  an 
early  day,  this  method  of  settling  disputed  questions  and 
deciding  the  guilt  or  innocence  of  one  accused  of  crime, 
received  the  sanction  of  the  law  and  was  very  frequently 
resorted  to  in  England.  This  legal  dueling  was  termed 
“wager  of  battel,”  or  “trial  by  battel.”  The  only  people 
exempt  from  “trial  by  battel”  were  peers  of  the  realm,  citi¬ 
zens  of  London,  women,  infants,  and  men  who  were  over  sixty 
years  of  age,  or  who  were  lame  or  blind ;  these  might  demand 
a  trial  by  jury.  In  criminal  cases  the  parties  fought  them¬ 
selves,  but  in  those  of  a  civil  character  the  matter  was  decided 
by  champions. 

This  mode  of  procedure  was  the  same  in  civil  and  criminal 
cases.  The  combat  was  carried  on  in  the  presence  of  the 
court,  who  judged  of  its  fairness.  The  defendant,  or  accused, 
as  the  case  might  be,  threw  down  his  glove  and  declared  that 
he  would  prove  his  right  or  defend  it  with  his  body.  The 
plaintiff,  or  accuser,  then  took  up  the  glove  and  announced 
that  he  was  prepared  to  make  good  his  demand  or  charge, 
body  for  body.  This  done,  the  parties  grasped  each  other’s 
hands  and  solemnly  and  with  great  formality  joined  issue 
before  the  court.  The  weapons  employed  were  wooden 
batons,  or  staves,  an  ell — forty-five  inches — in  length,  and 
four-cornered  leathern  targets.  As  a  preliminary  to  the 
conflict,  each  of  the  combatants  was  obliged  to  solemnly  swear 
that  they  would  not  employ  arts  of  magic  or  witchcraft. 
Unless  one  or  the  other  of  the  parties  was  sooner  killed  or 
disabled,  the  “battel”  lasted  until  the  stars  appeared  in  the 
evening.  The  one  who  killed  or  got  the  better  of  the  other 
was  most  solemnly  adjudged  the  successful  suitor  before  the 
court.  Upon  a  charge  of  murder,  if  the  accused  was  slain  he 
was  at  once  adjudged  guilty,  and  his  blood  declared  attainted; 
which  meant  that  his  heirs  could  not  inherit  his  property;  and 
if,  before  the  appearance  of  the  stars,  he  became  unable,  or 
unwilling,  to  continue  the  fight,  he  was  found  guilty,  and 
immediately  sentenced  and  executed. 

With  the  dawn  of  more  enlightened  and  more  humane 
times,  “trial  by  battel”  gradually  disappeared  in  England, 


3io 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


trial  by  jury  taking  its  place,  as  well  as  that  of  “wager  by 
witnesses,  ’  ’  where  the  party  triumphed  who  could  bring  the 
most  people  into  court  to  swear  that  they  believed  him.  But 
this  method  of  deciding  disputes  was  not  abolished  by  act  of 
Parliament,  and,  as  late  as  1818,  a  party  in  the  court  of  the 
King’s  Bench  demanded  his  right  of  “trial  by  battel,”  as 
secured  to  him  by  the  ancient  common  law  of  the  realm.  He 
was  sustained  in  this  position  by  the  court,  Lord  Ellenbor- 
ough,  a  very  eminent  lawyer  and  jurist,  remarking  that  “the 
general  law  of  the  land  is  in  favor  of  the  wager  of  battel,  and 
it  is  our  duty  to  pronounce  the  law  as  it  is,  and  not  as  we  may 
wish  it  to  be ;  whatever  prejudices,  therefore,  may  justly  exist 
against  this  mode  of  trial,  still,  as  it  is  the  law  of  the  land,  the 
court  must  pronounce  judgment  for  it.  ”  Happily,  the  pug¬ 
nacious  litigant  who  obtained  this  judgment  was  induced  to  go 
no  further,  and  as  a  result  a  statute,  the  5th  Geo.  III.  c.  46, 
was  passed,  by  which  the  shocking  ordeal  was  wholly  abolished. 

The  great  French  philosopher,  Montesquieu,  in  his  “Spirit 
of  Laws,  ’  *  presents  a  very  plausible  and  quite  convincing  argu¬ 
ment  to  show  that  the  modern  practice  of  dueling  and  the 
“laws  of  honor”  had  their  origin  in  the  barbarous  judicial  com¬ 
bat  we  have  described.  It  seems  probable  that  “trial  by 
battel,”  in  turn,  had  its  origin  in  the  various  “ordeals,”  by 
which  the  guilt  or  innocence  of  an  accused  party  was  sub¬ 
mitted  to  some  test  whereby  the  judgment  of  the  Almighty 
was  supposed  to  be  definitely  obtained.  That  this  practice  is 
of  great  antiquity  is  shown  from  the  circumstance  that  ordeals 
were  resorted  to  in  the  old  Bible  times.  In  Numbers  V.  it  is 
provided  that  a  woman  accused  of  adultery,  having  first  taken 
solemn  oaths  as  to  her  innocence,  should  drink  certain  ‘‘bitter 
waters”  offered  by  the  priest.  In  the  event  of  her  guilt  it 
would  prove  fatal,  but  would  be  rendered  harmless  if  she  were 
innocent. 

In  the  early  days  of  dueling,  doubtless  the  belief  that  the 
issue  of  the  encounter  would  be  determined  by  a  special  act  of 
Divine  Providence,  was  almost  universal.  So  far  it  had  an 
apparent  origin  in  sentiments  of  religion,  but  was  greatly 
distorted  in  the  middle  ages,  and  was  so  turned  and  twisted  as 


DUELING 


3ii 

to  be  made  to  justify  the  foulest  wrongs.  The  homicidal 
impulse  was  given  free  rein,  and  arguments  and  authorities  to 
show  the  righteousness  of  taking  human  life  were  never 
wanting. 

Although  dueling,  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  term,  was 
unknown  to  the  ancient  Romans,  personal  conflicts  between 
individuals,  members  of  opposing  armies,  were  by  no  means 
uncommon.  Among  these  prearranged  combats,  one  of 
decided  interest  has  come  down  from  the  ancient  Roman 
writers.  While  Rome  was  but  a  youthful  kingdom,  it  became 
involved  in  a  war  with  the  Albans,  whose  rich  territory  the 
Romans  greatly  desired  to  possess.  While  the  two  hostile 
armies  were  resting  in  opposing  camps,  the  Alban  commander 
sought  an  interview  with  the  Roman  general.  The  result  was 
the  forming  of  an  agreement  to  decide  the  relative  supremacy 
of  the  two  nations  by  means  of  personal  combat.  It  happened 
that  there  were  in  the  Roman  forces  three  brothers  known  as 
the  Horatii,  highly  renowned  as  men  at  arms,  while  in  the 
Alban  army  were  three  other  brothers,  of  about  equal  size  and 
prowess,  known  as  the  Curiatii.  It  was  agreed  that  the  con¬ 
flict  should  take  place  between  these  respective  champions, 
and  that  the  supremacy  of  one  state  over  the  other  should  be 
determined  by  the  result.  The  combat  took  place  in  the  pres¬ 
ence  of  the  two  contending  hosts,  each  man,  whether  Roman 
or  Alban,  watching  it  with  the  keenest  interest.  Two  of  the 
Horatii  were  killed  and  all  their  antagonists  wounded.  The 
surviving  Roman  brother,  perceiving  that  it  would  be  folly  to 
contend  against  such  odds,  feigned  flight,  thus  anticipating  by 
many  centuries  the  tactics  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  who  always 
strove  to  separate  the  divisions  of  the  opposing  army.  The 
wounded  Curiatii,  urged  on  by  the  exultant  shouts  of  their 
comrades  in  arms,  who  believed  that  triumph  was  about  to 
descend  upon  the  standard  of  Alba,  pursued.  Weak  from 
wounds,  they  advanced  with  uncertain  step  and  at  an  unequal 
rate  of  speed.  The  wily  Roman,  looking  over  his  shoulder, 
saw  that  one  was  far  in  advance,  and,  turning,  relentlessly 
and  quickly  gave  him  his  death  wound.  His  ruse  had  proved 
successful,  and  he  dispatched  the  brothers  of  the  fallen  soldier 


31 2 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


in  like  manner  and  with  the  utmost  ease.  The  result  was  the 
absorption  of  the  Alban  territory  and  the  people  into  the 
Roman  State,  and  thenceforth  the  name  of  Alba  disappears 
from  the  pages  of  ancient  history. 

Nearly  all  the  peculiar  customs  of  the  middle  ages  had  their 
origin  in  and  among  the  Germanic  nations,  and  the  practice  of 
dueling  appears  to  be  no  exception  to  this  rule.  About  the 
first  trace  of  duels  that  can  be  found  in  history  appears  among 
the  Burgundians  in  501.  In  that  year  King  Gundebald  intro¬ 
duced  the  duel  into  legal  proceedings,  in  lieu  of  an  oath. 
Louis  the  Debonnaire*  was  the  first  of  the  French  kings  to 
permit  litigants  to  appeal  to  arms.  This  was  about  the  begin¬ 
ning  of  the  ninth  century.  From  this  origin,  however,  the 
duel  rapidly  degenerated  into  a  method  for  redressing  either 
real  or  supposed  private  wrongs.  It  must  be  remembered, 
too,  that  during  those  early  centuries  a  battle  between  con¬ 
tending  armies  was  largely  an  aggregation  of  personal 
encounters.  Men  fought  from  instinct  as  well  as  by  habit, 
and  it  is  not  strange  that  a  practice  originally  sanctioned  by 
law  for  one  purpose  should  be  adopted  by  individuals  for 
another  and  quite  different  use.  It  is  also  likely  that  the  cus¬ 
toms  of  knight  errantry  were,  in  some  degree,  responsible  for 
familiarizing  the  popular  mind  with  the  practice  of  personal 
combat,  and  inducing  a  general  respect  therefor. 

Nor  was  dueling  lacking  of  the  highest  earthly  indorse¬ 
ment;  several  kings  having  more  than  “winked”  at  the  prac¬ 
tice.  In  1527  Francis  I.  of  France  sent  a  challenge  to  the 
Emperor  Charles  V. ,  with  whom  he  was  at  war,  to  decide  their 
quarrel  by  the  result  of  a  single  combat.  Charles  promptly 
accepted  the  challenge,  but,  for  some  reason,  the  duel  never 
took  place.  Henry  emphasized  his  royal  example  by  declar¬ 
ing  that  a  lie  could  only  be  borne  without  satisfaction  by  a 
base-born  churl.  This  had  a  decided  effect  upon  the  world, 
and  from  that  time  dueling  became  very  fashionable,  and  con¬ 
sequently  very  frequent.  While  the  law  did  not  recognize  the 
practice  as  legitimate,  it  failed  to  positively  condemn  it,  and 
courts  had  neither  the  authority  nor  the  disposition  to  inter¬ 
fere  with  its  prevalence.  A  gentleman  who  received  an 


DUELING 


3i3 


affront,  even  although  trivial,  felt  himself  obliged,  in  honor, 
to  demand  from  his  adversary  reparation  at  the  point  of  the 
sword.  Not  to  do  so  was  considered  evidence  that  the  party 
affronted  was  destitute  of  personal  courage,  and  unfit  for 
association  with  men  of  honor.  It  might  have  been  supposed 
that  this  readiness  to  avenge  an  insult  would  have  induced 
considerable  caution  before  one  was  offered.  Such,  however, 
was  not  the  case.  A  man  cherishing  hostilities  toward  another 
would  frequently  either  give  or  provoke  an  affront,  in  order 
that  he  might  have  a  pretext  for  meeting  him  in  deadly  com¬ 
bat.  From  the  upper  classes  this  custom  spread  among  those 
of  ruder  manners,  and  much  of  the  best  blood  of  Christendom 
was,  in  consequence,  foolishly  spilled.  Even  women  placed  the 
seal  of  their  approval  upon  the  barbarous  custom  by  showing 
especial  favor  to  those  whose  achievements  in  this  direction 
had  been  particularly  noteworthy;  high  dames  of  the  French 
and  English  courts  receiving,  with  every  mark  of  friendship 
and  honor,  men  destitute  of  wit,  wisdom  or  fortune,  but  who 
had  acquired  a  reputation  as  famous  duelists. 

As  might  be  expected,  the  great  prevalence  of  this  murder¬ 
ous  practice  led  to  a  reaction  in  which  the  wise  and  humane 
rulers  of  Christendom  took  an  active  part.  In  the  meantime, 
the  Christian  Church  took  a  decided  stand  against  the  cruel 
and  demoralizing  practice.  This  was  true  both  of  the  Roman 
Catholics  and  the  Reformers.  The  former  decreed  the 
excommunication  of  all  participants  in  duels,  seconds  as  well 
as  principals,  while  the  latter  did  everything  in  their  power  to 
discourage  and  prevent  them,  by  teaching  the  enormous  sin 
committed  by  duelists.  Henry  II.,  who  succeeded  to  the 
throne  of  France  in  1547,  took  an  entirely  different  view  of 
“affairs  of  honor”  than  had  been  entertained  by  his  royal 
father,  Francis  I.,  and  prohibited  the  practice,  solemnly  vow¬ 
ing  that  it  should  not  prevail  during  his  reign.  This  action 
was  caused  by  the  result  of  a  duel  fought  in  his  presence  by 
two  of  his  friends,  Francis  de  la  Chastaigneree  and  Guy 
Chabot  de  Jarnac,  in  which  the  latter  was  killed.  But  neither 
his  oath  nor  his  royal  edict  had  any  perceptible  effect,  and  the 
practice  of  private  dueling  continued  to  increase  in  France, 


3i4 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


where  more  duels  were  fought  at  this  time  than  in  any  other 
country  in  Europe. 

Henry  II.  reigned  but  twelve  years,  and  left  the  throne  of 
France  to  his  sons,  three  of  whom  reigned  in  succession,  all 
being  largely  under  the  influence  of  his  widow,  the  queen 
dowager.  This  woman,  the  infamous  Catherine  de  Medici, 
whose  plot  to  murder  the  Huguenots  has  been  treated  of  at 
length  in  another  chapter,  was  not  of  a  character  to  discourage 
dueling,  or  any  other  vice,  for  that  matter.  While  she  con¬ 
tinued  virtual  monarch  of  France,  her  family,  and  the  nobility 
of  the  realm,  set  most  pernicious  examples,  which  were 
eagerly  followed  by  the  people.  In  consequence  of  the  loose¬ 
ness  of  the  prevailing  morals,  and  the  deadly  feud  between 
Catholics  and  Protestants,  the  practice  of  dueling  constantly 
increased. 

In  the  reign  of  Henry  IV.  efforts  were  made  to  check  this 
rapidly  growing  evil,  and  in  1599  the  Parliament  of  Paris 
declared  all  persons  who  were  either  principals  or  seconds  in 
a  duel  to  be  rebels  to  the  king.  In  1609  Henry  increased  the 
existing  penalties  -and  even  introduced  the  punishment  of 
death  in  extreme  cases.  But  this  was  without  avail,  largely, 
perhaps,  because  the  measure  was  forced  upon  him  by  popular 
feeling,  while  he  was  far  from  disposed  to  rigidly  enforce  his 
own  edict.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  seems  to  have  personally 
regarded  the  practice  with  favor.  Upon  one  occasion,  when 
he  had  given  Creque  his  royal  permission  to  fight  Don  Philip 
of  Savoy,  he  added,  “If  I  were  not  the  King,  I  would  be  your 
second.”  Henry  was  very  free  in  granting  pardons  to  con¬ 
victed  duelists,  the  effect  being  to  decidedly  increase  the 
interdicted  practice. 

Another  cause  of  the  prevailing  wickedness  existed  in  the 
religious  conflict,  already  alluded  to.  It  was  while  Henry  sat 
upon  the  throne  that  the  first  determined  effort  was  made  by 
the  crown  to  insure  the  religious  freedom  of  the  .subject.  In 
the  breasts  of  the  Huguenots,  many  of  whom  belonged  to  the 
highest  rank  of  French  nobility,  was  rankling  the  recollection 
of  a  multitude  of  outrages  committed  upon  their  ancestors 
solely  because  of  their  reluctance  to  profess  adherence  to  the 


DUELING 


3i5 


established  religion  of  their  country.  Not  a  few  of  the 
descendants  of  those  who  had  been  proscribed  during  the 
reign  of  the  earlier  monarchs,  finding  themselves  restored  to 
rank  and  fortune  by  the  promulgation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes 
in  1598,  were  not  slow  in  seeking  to  avenge  themselves  upon 
those  whom  they  regarded  as  the  murderers  of  their  ancestors. 
Insults  flew  back  and  forth,  and  challenges  to  mortal  combat 
were  far  more  frequent  than  were  the  caprices  of  passion  dur¬ 
ing  the  existence  of  the  Second  Empire.  Indeed,  it  is  said 
that  not  less  than  four  thousand  gentlemen  of  France,  either 
Catholic  or  Protestant,  died  upon  the  field  of  honor  during  the 
first  eighteen  years  of  the  reign  of  one  who  was  professedly  an 
apostle  of  religious  freedom. 

Louis  XIII.,  son  of  Henry  IV.  and  Marie  de  Medici,  who 
ascended  the  throne  of  France  upon  the  death  of  his  father, 
May  14,  1610,  seems  to  have  had  a  natural  and  very  decided 
aversion  to  the  shedding  of  human  blood.  He  possessed  a 
feeble  nature,  but,  perhaps  so  far  as  he  was  able,  attempted  to 
suppress  the  prevailing  vice  of  the  kingdom.  He  issued  sev¬ 
eral  edicts  which  he  thought  well  calculated  to  discourage 
dueling,  but  which  led  to  small  results.  That  even  a  partial 
degree  of  success  followed  was  due  to  the  influence  and  inter¬ 
ference  of  Cardinal  Richelieu,  who,  while  nominally  merely  a 
priest  of  the  church,  was  virtually  the  power  behind  the 
throne  and  dominated  the  policy  of  the  French  monarchy. 
This  prelate,  whose  character  was  a  strange  admixture  of 
much  that  was  good  with  all  that  was  bad,  whose  lust  of  power 
stopped  at  nothing  which  he  believed  to  be  adapted  to  its 
gratification,  and  who,  under  the  guise  of  a  religious  adviser 
and  personal  friend,  absolutely  controlled  the  national  and 
international  policy  of  Louis  XIII.,  was  quick  to  perceive 
that  dueling  might,  under  certain  circumstances,  be  tolerated 
as  a  means  for  the  advancement  and  perpetuation  of  his  own 
power.  As  priest  and  prelate,  it  was  impossible  for  him  to 
give  official  sanction  to  the  practice  of  seeking  revenge  through 
any  means  whatever. 

Accordingly,  probably  at  his  suggestion,  Louis  XIII.  issued 
an  imperial  edict  making  every  participant  in  a  duel,  whether 


316 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


as  principal  or  as  a  second,  a  criminal.  For  the  sending  of  a 
challenge  there  was  imposed  the  forfeiture  of  property  and 
imprisonment  for  three  years.  Should  the  loss  of  life  ensue 
from  a  hostile  meeting,  the  successful  combatant  was  to  be 
held  guilty  of  murder,  and,  if  convicted,  was  to  be  capitally 
punished.  How  thoroughly  this  edict  was  carried  into  execu¬ 
tion,  and  how  lax  was  the  morality  inculcated  by  those  priests 
of  the  Catholic  Church  who  recognized  Cardinal  Richelieu  as 
their  superior,  is  best  attested  by  the  fact  that  duels  among 
gentlemen  of  the  King’s  household  were  not  infrequent,  while 
the  authorities,  at  the  head  of  whom  stood  the  great  cardinal, 
one  of  the  monumental  figures  of  his  age,  took  no  pains  to 
bring  the  offenders  to  justice. 

During  the  reign  of  this  monarch  dueling  assumed  great 
proportions,  and  became  so  prevalent  that  Lord  Herbert,  the 
English  ambassador,  wrote  home  to  his  government  that  there 
was  scarcely  a  Frenchman  worth  looking  at  who  had  not  killed 
his  man.  It  was  during  this  reign  that  two  distinguished 
noblemen,  the  greatest  duelists  of  the  day.  Count  de  Boute- 
ville  and  the  Marquis  de  Beurin,  were  tried  and  beheaded  for 
persisting  to  fight  after  being  forbidden  to  do  so. 

Louis  XIV.,  the  son  of  Louis  XIII.,  succeeded  his  father 
in  1643,  at  the  age  of  five  years,  the  kingdom  being  ruled  by 
his  mother,  Anne  of  Austria,  as  regent,  with  the  famous 
Cardinal  lVIazarin  as  prime  minister.  Mazarin  died  in  1661, 
when  Louis  suddenly  assumed  the  reins  of  government  and 
astonished  the  country  with  the  vigor  of  his  policy.  During 
the  regency  of  Anne  dueling  was  very  common,  in  many 
instances  several  persons,  sometimes  four  or  five,  fighting  on 
either  side.  This  practice  continued  after  the  death  of 
Mazarin.  Two  very  sanguinary  affairs  of  this  kind  having 
taken  place,  in  which  several  persons  of  the  highest  rank  were 
slain,  the  king  determined  to  put  an  end  to  the  practice.  He 
published  an  edict  in  1687  forbidding  it  under  the  highest 
penalties,  which,  unlike  most  of  his  predecessors,  he  had  the 
firmness  to  inflict ;  and  this  measure,  together  with  a  solemn 
agreement  which  was  entered  into  amongst  the  nobility  them¬ 
selves,  led  to  its  almost  total  abolition  at  that  time. 


DUELING 


3i7 


We  search  in  vain  for  traces  of  the  duel  in  England  during 
the  days  of  the  Anglo-Saxons.  Indeed,  it  does  not  appear  to 
have  existed  there  until  after  the  Norman  conquest.  We 
have  already  alluded  to  the  judicial  form  in  which  it  existed 
in  England.  This  continued  for  centuries,  and  did  not  become 
entirely  obsolete  until  the  reign  of  Elizabeth.  Sir  Henry 
Spelman  gives  an  account  of  a  trial  by  battle  which  occurred 
in  •  the  year  1571,  but  which  terminated  without  an  actual 
combat  having  been  fought. 

But,  although  the  practice  had  lost  judicial  sanction, 
private  duels  were  quite  frequent  during  her  long  reign,  and 
likewise  that  of  her  successor,  James  I.,  by  whom  a  severe 
statute  against  them  was  enacted  in  Scotland  in  1600,  while  he 
was  still  ruler  of  that  country.  ,  James  I.,  whose  name  has 
become  well-nigh  synonymous  with  all  that  is  weak  and 
cowardly  in  the  nature  of  man,  was  himself  fearful  of  the  very 
sight  of  a  naked  sword  blade,  and  attempted,  after  he 
ascended  the  English  throne,  to  discountenance  the  resort  to 
personal  combat  as  a  method  of  avenging  personal  wrongs. 
How  far  he  succeeded  in  this  attempt  is  shown  by  the  circum¬ 
stance  that,  during  his  reign,  the  practice  was  carried  on,  not 
only  by  members  of  the  aristocracy,  but  also  by  artisans  and 
tradespeople.  James  was  always  deeply  grieved  when  he 
learned  that  a  duel  had  been  fought  between  members  of  his 
court.  In  the  year  1609,  a  personal  encounter  occurred 
between  two  of  his  favorites,  Sir  George  Orton  and  Sir  James 
Stewart,  and  when  the  King  learned  that  both  were  dead  he 
was  so  deeply  affected  that  he  directed  that  their  bodies  should 
be  buried  in  the  same  grave. 

During  the  civil  war  of  the  Commonwealth,  the  minds  of 
almost  all  Englishmen  were  so  much  occupied  with  grave  and 
weighty  affairs  that  little  time  was  left  for  questions  of  eti¬ 
quette,  in  consequence  of  which  dueling  declined  to  a  marked 
extent.  But  with  the  accession  to  the  throne  of  Charles  II., 
the  old  cavalier  spirit  again  asserted  itself,  and  “affairs  of 
honor”  became  of  alarming  frequency.  Although  a  volup¬ 
tuary  by  instinct  and  by  practice  a  profligate,  he  cherished  the 
greatest  detestation  for  dueling,  but  the  weakness  of  his  char- 


3i& 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


acter  forbade  any  decisive  action  by  him  upon  any  subject. 
Indeed,  under  the  reign  of  no  other  English  monarch  was 
the  rage  for  dueling  more  violently  manifested.  Ballrooms, 
masquerades,  theatres  and  the  open  streets  were  constantly  the 
scenes  of  strife  and  bloodshed.  Addison,  in  the  “Spectator,” 
refers  to  the  existence  of  a  London  club  of  duelists,  in  which 
no  one  was  eligible  as  a  member  unless  he  had  “fought  his 
man.”  The  president  of  this  “delectable”  organization  owed 
his  elevation  to  that  high  office,  to  the  fact  that  he  had  killed 
not  less  than  half  a  dozen  men  in  single  combat.  Seated 
around  him  at  the  festal  board  were  arranged  the  other  mem¬ 
bers  of  the  club  according  to  their  rank,  which  was  determined 
by  the  number  of  those  which  each  had  killed  in  personal 
encounters. 

In  1679  Charles,  by  and  with  the  advice  and  consent  of 
Parliament,  issued  a  proclamation  announcing  that  any  one 
killing  another  person  in  a  duel  should  be  held  for  trial  for 
murder,  and  that  upon  conviction  no  pardon  would  be 
granted.  In  spite  of  all  this,  however,  during  the  reign  of 
this  monarch,  which  lasted  from  May  29,  1660,  to  February  6, 
1685,  there  occurred  in  England  not  less  than  one  hundred  and 
ninety-six  duels,  in  which  seventy-five  persons  were  killed 
and  one  hundred  and  eight  more  or  less  severely  wounded. 
It  was  no  uncommon  thing  during  that  period  for  the  seconds 
to  so  cordially  espouse  the  cause  of  their  respective  principals 
as  to  engage  in  mortal  combat  themselves,  upon  the  same 
ground,  and  at  the  same  time. 

Among  the  prime  favorites  of  this  dissolute  monarch  may 
be  reckoned  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  Lord  Howard  and  the 
depraved  Duchess  of  Shrewsbury.  It  is  recorded  that  upon 
one  occasion  Lord  Howard  gave  a  grand  fete  at  Spring  Gardens, 
near  Charing  Cross,  London,  in  honor  of  the  profligate  woman 
last  named.  Among  those  in  attendance  was  the  gay  and 
fascinating  Sydney,  who  largely  monopolized  the  attention  and 
the  smiles  of  the  Duchess,  much  to  the  anger  of  Lord  Howard, 
whose  fete  Sydney  did  not  hesitate  to  ridicule.  Hardly  had 
the  festivities  come  to  an  end  on  the  following  morning  when 
Howard  sent  a  challenge  to  his  rival.  The  meeting  was 


DUELING  319 

quickly  “arranged”;  Sydney  received  three  serious  thrusts 
from  Howard’s  sword,  and  was  carried  from  the  field  danger¬ 
ously  wounded,  while  his  second  was  left  dead  upon  the  grass, 
pierced  through  the  heart  by  the  weapon  of  Lord  Howard’s 
second.  Naturally  the  tragedy  was  the  cause  of  an  immense 
scandal,  not  only  at  court,  but  throughout  London  as  well. 
Among  the  first  to  hear  the  news  was  the  Duke  of  Shrews¬ 
bury.  His  excitement  knew  no  bounds,  and,  having  become 
satisfied  of  his  wife’s  dishonor,  he  promptly  sent  a  challenge 
to  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  whom  he  charged  with  having 
carried  on  an  intrigue  with  the  Duchess.  Buckingham 
accepted  the  challenge  with  as  little  emotion  as  he  might  have 
displayed  in  drinking  a  glass  of  wine ;  and  it  is  stated  that  the 
Duchess  of  Shrewsbury,  disguised  as  a  page,  accompanied 
him  to  the  field  and  held  his  horse  while  the  latter  fought  with 
and  killed  her  husband.  English  writers  generally  describe 
the  killing  of  Shrewsbury  as  having  been  nothing  short  of  cold¬ 
blooded  murder;  yet,  notwithstanding  all  the  terrible  circum¬ 
stances  with  which  it  was  surrounded,  and  despite  the  urgent 
and  repeated  remonstrances  of  Queen  Henrietta,  the  King, 
shortly  after  the  commission  of  this  frightful  crime,  received 
Buckingham  with  open  arms. 

During  the  reign  of  William  III.  some  attempts  were  made 
to  suppress  this  evil  and  demoralizing  practice,  but,  owing  to 
the  sentiment  of  the  great  body  of  the  people,  they  proved  of 
small  avail.  In  1612  his  successor,  Queen  Anne,  called  the 
attention  of  Parliament  to  the  subject  in  a  speech  from  the 
throne,  but  the  suggestion  failed  to  find  favor;  the  bill  pre¬ 
sented  by  the  government  was  promptly  rejected,  and  the 
practice  continued  to  prevail,  encouraged  by  the  unsuccessful 
efforts  that  had  been  made  to  repress  it. 

“Gretna  Green”  has  not  been  more  renowned  as  a  place 
for  clandestine  marriages  than  has  Hyde  Park,  London,  been 
noted  as  a  “field  of  honor.  ”  Almost  innumerable  duels  have 
been  fought  there,  and  in  the  latter  part  of  the  eighteenth 
century  it  became  the  common  meeting  ground  for  members 
of  the  aristocracy.  The  frequent  meetings  there  excited  the 
widest  interest  and  aroused  the  most  ardent  admiration  of  the 


320 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


common  people,  who  began  to  imitate  the  fashionable  prac¬ 
tices  of  their  social  superiors.  One  portion  of  the  enclosure 
has  become  almost  classic,  because  of  its  having  been  selected 
as  the  field  in  which  “little  affairs  of  honor”  might  be 
arranged.  This  celebrated  portion  of  the  famous  park  was 
generally  known  as  “The  Ring.”  The  spot  has  been  the 
scene  of  many  a  sanguinary  conflict,  and  at  one  time  was  the 
favorite  resort  for  duelists.  In  the  year  1712  occurred  here 
one  of  the  most  celebrated  duels  of  the  eighteenth  century. 
Charles,  Lord  Mohun,  and  James,  the  fourth  Duke  of  Hamil¬ 
ton,  were  the  principals  in  a  bloody  tragedy.  At  one  of  the 
fashionable  London  clubs  angry  words  passed  between  them, 
and  on  the  following  morning  Lord  Mohun  sent  his  friend, 
General  Macartney,  to  the  duke  with  a  peremptory  demand 
that  the  latter  should  withdraw  and  apologize  for  the  offensive 
epithet  which  he  had  used  on  the  previous  evening.  The  duke 
declining  either  to  apologize  or  to  retract,  a  meeting  was 
immediately  arranged,  General  Macartney  representing  Lord 
Mohun,  and  Colonel  Hamilton  appearing  as  second  to  the 
duke.  From  all  accounts,  it  would  seem  that  Mohun  was  more 
anxious  for  the  encounter  than  his  antagonist.  When  the 
parties  met,  the  duke  taunted  General  Macartney  with  having 
been  the  instigator  of  the  conflict;  the  latter,  while  depre¬ 
cating  the  insinuation,  expressed  entire  readiness  to  take  part 
in  the  conflict.  The  duke,  pointing  toward  Colonel  Hamilton, 
said,  “There  is  my  friend;  you  will  find  him  quite  willing  to 
share  in  my  dance.”  This  was  enough.  Both  principals  and 
seconds  drew  their  swords  and  engaged  in  combat  almost 
simultaneously.  Mohun  and  the  duke  inflicted  upon  each 
other  fatal  wounds,  but  the  seconds,  who  were,  perhaps,  less 
enthusiastic,  escaped  without  serious  injury.  Both  of  the 
principals  were  left  dead  upon  the  field.  This  is  supposed  to 
be  the  most  authentic  account  of  this  famous  encounter, 
although  there  are  others  extant.  Historians  have  unearthed 
a  letter  in  which  is  contained  a  statement  that  while  Lord 
Mohun  was  expiring,  the  duke  bent  over  him  and  with  his 
sword  grasped  near  its  point,  stabbed  him  in  the  left  breast, 
the  point  entering  the  heart  of  the  victim.  The  same  letter 


DUEL  BETWEEN  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON  AND  AARON  BURR. — PAGE  337. 


DUELING 


321 


is  authority  for  the  statement  that  the  duke,  after  the  com¬ 
mission  of  this  dastardly  act,  was  helped  in  his  effort  to  reach 
a  neighboring-  house,  but  dropped  dead  upon  the  way,  and 
was  carried  off  in  a  coach  before  the  chimes  of  the  nearest 
clock  had  struck  the  hour  of  eight  in  the  morning.  His 
second,  Colonel  Hamilton,  was  immediately  afterwards  appre¬ 
hended  and  put  on  trial  at  the  Old  Bailey,  where  he  obtained 
a  verdict  of  acquittal.  The  next  year,  General  Macartney 
surrendered  to  the  authorities,  and  was  duly  arraigned.  One 
of  the  chief  witnesses  in  behalf  of  the  prosecution  was  Colonel 
Hamilton,  who  made  oath  that  he  could  not  be  mistaken  in 
stating  that  the  general  was  the  person  who  had  inflicted  the 
fatal  wound.  In  spite  of  this  testimony,  however,  the  jury 
brought  in  a  verdict  of  simple  manslaughter,  and  Hamilton, 
receiving  an  intimation  that  it  was  likely  that  he  would  be  put 
on  trial  for  perjury,  fled  the  country.  Within  four  months 
after  his  voluntary  expatriation,  he  died,  General  Macartney 
surviving  upon  his  native  soil  until  1730. 

Duels  have  a  prominent  place  in  English  fiction  of  this 
period,  the  most  famous  authors  recognizing  the  interest  uni¬ 
versally  taken  in  the  subject,  and  frequently  introducing  them 
into  their  novels.  The  same  course  was  taken  by  the 
dramatists  of  that  time,  although,  for  the  most  part,  they 
burlesqued  the  “field  of  honor.”  The  prevailing  vices  and 
virtues  of  a  people  can  quite  accurately  be  traced  from  the 
pages  of  contemporary  fiction,  and  the  works  of  Fielding, 
Smollet,  Sheridan  and  others,  not  only  catered  to  the  public 
admiration  for  dueling,  but  plainly  indicate  that  Hyde  Park 
was  regarded  as  the  approved  place  for  a  “meeting  of  two 
gentlemen,”  and  it  was  there  that  their  imaginary  heroes  and 
villains  settled  their  disputes. 

It  was  in  Hyde  Park  that  John  Wilkes,  M.  P.,  fought 
another  member  of  Parliament  named  Samuel  Martin.  Four 
shots  were  exchanged  before  the  honor  of  the  parties  was 
satisfied,  or  either  of  them  injured.  On  the  fourth  exchange 
of  bullets,  Wilkes  fell,  badly  wounded,  while  Martin  lost  no 
time  in  crossing  the  Channel  and  gaining  in  France  security 
from  arrest.  Wilkes  was  a  bright  but  most  loose  and  profli- 


322 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


gate  character.  He  was  a  writer  of  considerable  ability, 
but,  for  the  most  part,  his  works  were  either  seditious  or 
obscene.  He  was  twice  expelled  from  Parliament,  and  for  a 
long  time  confined  in  prison ;  but,  after  all  this,  he  was  made 
Lord  Mayor  of  London,  and  served  for  several  years  as  a 
member  of  Parliament. 

In  October,  1765,  a  very  famous  duel  was  fought  upon  the 
same  spot,  Lieutenant  Redmond  McGraw,  an  Irish  gentleman, 
engaging  four  antagonists.  It  would  hardly  be  supposed  that, 
in  a  day  when  the  use  of  the  sword  was  universally  under¬ 
stood,  one  man  could  prevail  against  four,  yet  such  proved  to 
be  the  case.  McGraw  was  an  expert  swordsman,  and  pos¬ 
sessed  of  most  remarkable  courage.  He  succeeded  in  disarm¬ 
ing  all  of  his  antagonists,  receiving  in  return  only  a  slight 
flesh  wound  in  the  right  arm. 

Some  two  years  later,  two  brothers  fought  in  Hyde  Park.  It 
seems  that  they  were  both  paying  addresses  to  the  same  lady, 
in  consequence  of  which  a  bitter  quarrel  had  arisen  between 
them.  The  hatred  was  bitter  and  mutual,  and  the  conflict  was 
to  the  death.  One  brother  fell,  mortally  wounded,  while  the 
other,  instead  of  remaining  to  render  him  such  assistance  as 
humanity,  and  even  the  “code”  required,  ran  from  the  field  to 
avoid  arrest.  In  this  action  the  real  principles  of  most  duel¬ 
ists  are  exposed.  This  man  could  take  the  life  of  his  brother, 
thus  braving  the  vengeance  of  the  Almighty,  but  had  not  the 
courage  to  face  the  constables  who  represented  the  mere 
earthly  law.  Will  any  candid  person  say  that  he  was  any 
less  a  fratricide  because  his  equally  vindictive  brother  had 
been  striving  to  take  his  life? 

On  St.  Patrick’s  day,  March  17,  177 6,  George  Garrick,  a 
brother  of  the  famous  comedian,  David  Garrick,  fought  a 
duel  near  “The  Ring,”  with  one  of  the  actors  of  the  stock 
company  of  the  Drury  Lane  Theatre.  The  provocation  had 
been  the  alleged  flirtation  of  Garrick  with  the  actor’s  wife,  a 
Mrs.  Beardsley.  At  a  peculiarly  opportune  moment,  just 
before  the  fatal  shots  were  exchanged,  the  lady  appeared  upon 
the  scene,  and  her  advent  brought  about  a  reconciliation, 
which,  while  satisfactory  to  all  parties  concerned,  prevented  a 


DUELING 


323 

stain  of  dishonor  from  attaching  itself  to  the  name  borne  by  the 
great  actor. 

Richard  Brinsley  Sheridan,  the  brilliant  dramatist  and 
renowned  orator,  whose  first  comedy,  “The  Rivals,”  contains 
a  scene  in  which  the  duel  is  made  ridiculous,  himself  entered 
the  field  of  honor.  For  some  cause,  the  exact  nature  of  which 
was  not  made  public,  he  quarreled  with  an  officer  of  the  Eng¬ 
lish  army,  named  Thomas  Mathews,  a  captain  in  his  Majesty’s 
foot.  Sheridan  sent  the  challenge,  which  was  promptly 
accepted  by  Captain  Mathews.  “The  Ring”  in  Hyde  Park 
was  selected  as  the  place  for  the  meeting.  In  the  meantime, 
the  matter  had  become  public  property,  and  the  hostile 
antagonists  found  a  large  and  intensely  interested  audience 
awaiting  the  beginning  of  hostilities.  This  was  more  than  the 
combatants  had  bargained  for,  and  the  meeting  was  postponed 
by  an  agreement  between  the  seconds.  The  “Pillars  of 
Hercules,  ”  one  of  the  best  known  places  in  London  at  the 
present  time,  was  selected  as  a  substitute  for  “The  Ring.” 
Arriving  there,  the  parties,  to  their  infinite  disgust,  found  a 
larger  audience  than  they  had  left  in  Hyde  Park.  They  there¬ 
fore  repaired  to  the  Castle  Tavern,  Henrietta  Street,  Covent 
Garden,  where  they  mutually  satisfied  their  wounded  honor 
without  any  serious  results  in  the  way  of  injuries. 

For  almost  a  century  the  famous  “Ring”  continued  to  be 
the  leading  dueling  ground  of  England,  but  space  forbids 
anything  like  a  full  account  of  the  sanguinary  encounters  that 
have  taken  place  there.  It  did  not  lose  favor  as  a  field  of 
honor,  but  ceased  to  be  so  employed  only  when  the  practice  of 
dueling  fell  into  disuse  in  England. 

The  period  extending,  with  some  interruptions,  from  the 
reign  of  James  I.  to  the  close  of  the  reign  of  George  III.,  was 
that  in  which  dueling  principally  prevailed  in  England.  It  is 
said  by  good  authorities  that,  during  the  long  reign  of  the  last- 
named  monarch,  one  hundred  and  forty  persons  were  engaged 
as  principals,  and  at  least  an  equal  number  as  seconds.  Sixty- 
nine  individuals  were  killed;  and  ninety-six  wounded,  forty- 
eight  seriously,  while  one  hundred  and  seventy-nine  escaped 
unhurt.  It  is  stated  that  this  large  number  of  duels  was  fol- 


324 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGE 


lowed  by  only  eighteen  trials,  in  eight  of  which  the  individuals 
charged  were  acquitted,  while  seven  were  found  guilty  of 
manslaughter,  and  three  of  murder.  The  net  results,  so  far 
as  the  infliction  of  judicial  punishment  was  concerned,  were 
two  executions  and  the  imprisonment  of  eight  persons  during 
different  periods.  A  considerable  proportion  of  these 
encounters  took  place  between  officers  of  the  army,  a  circum¬ 
stance  which  appears  to  have  been  the  cause  of  particular 
regret  to  George,  who  put  forth  some  efforts  to  abridge  the 
practice,  but  with  only  partial  success.  It  was  hardly  to  be 
expected  that  when  his  Royal  Highness,  the  Duke  of  York, 
himself  engaged  in  a  duel  with  an  officer  named  Colonel 
Lennox,  as  he  did  in  1789,  there  could  be  any  decided  disap¬ 
proval  of  dueling  among  army  officers.  The  Right  Honorable 
William  Pitt,  long  the  prime  minister  of  George  III.,  also 
furnished  a  scandalous  example  to  the  people  of  England  by 
engaging  in  a  duel  with  George  Tierney,  in  1798. 

From  the  close  of  the  reign  of  George  III.,  dueling  gradu¬ 
ally  decreased  in  England,  thanks  principally  to  an  improved 
public  sentiment,  but  the  practice  continued  to  a  considerable 
extent  among  the  officers  of  the  army  and  the  navy.  At  last 
this  attracted  the  attention  of  the  government.  In  an  article 
of  war  adopted  in  1844,  dueling  between  officers  rendered  the 
participants  liable  to  be  cashiered  upon  conviction.  This 
repressive  measure  was  largely  induced  by  the  fatal  termina¬ 
tion  of  an  encounter  in  1843  between  Colonel  Fawcett  and 
Captain  Monroe.  The  year  following  the  adoption  of  the 
article,  however,  two  military  officers  met  upon  the  field  of 
honor,  and  one  of  them,  Lieutenant  Sexton,  was  killed.  The 
effect  of  this  affair  was  to  arouse  still  greater  hostility  to  the 
custom  among  the  English  people,  and  there  was  formed  a 
“Society  for  the  Discouragement  of  Dueling.”  For  the  last 
half  century  public  opinion  in  Great  Britain  has  so  strongly 
reprobated  the  custom  that  the  practice,  so  far  as  encounters 
upon  English  soil  are  concerned,  has  practically  come  to  an 
end. 


CHAPTER  XIX 


DUELING— CONTINUED— NOTED  AMERICAN  DUELS 

The  practice  of  dueling  has  prevailed  to  a  greater  or  less 
extent  in  every  country  of  Europe.  “Trial  by  battel”  was 
introduced  into  Scotland  about  the  beginning  of  the  twelfth 
century,  and  was  not  entirely  superseded  by  other  legal 
methods  for  settling  disputes  until  five  hundred  years  had 
elapsed.  For  a  time  it  was  strictly  confined  to  legitimate 
causes  left  to  the  courts  for  adjudication,  but  gradually  it  began 
to  be  adopted,  usually  with  variations  in  which  more  deadly 
weapons  were  employed,  for  the  settlement  of  private  quarrels. 
As  duels  increased  in  frequency,  laws  were  enacted  looking  to 
their  suppression.  Mild  legislation  proving  ineffectual,  more 
stringent  laws  were  passed,  notably  one  mentioned  in  the 
preceding  chapter.  This  statute  provided  the  punishment  of 
death  for  those  who  participated  in  such  an  encounter,  even 
though  no  injury  resulted.  This  law  considerably  checked 
dueling  in  Scotland,  but  was  far  from  stamping  it  out.  In 
1698  a  law  was  enacted  punishing  the  giving,  sending  or 
accepting  of  a  challenge  to  fight  a  mortal  combat,  with  banish¬ 
ment,  and  this  applied  even  if  no  meeting  took  place.  In 
addition,  all  the  movable  property  of  the  offender  was  for¬ 
feited  to  the  crown.  Stringent  as  the  enactments  were,  they 
failed  to  suppress  dueling,  which  continued,  with  diminishing 
frequency,  down  to  recent  times. 

Sir  Walter  Scott,  one  of  the  most  accurate  of  all  Scotch 
authors,  has  described  in  his  novel,  “The  Fair  Maid  of  Perth,” 
a  duel  which,  though  mainly  fictitious,  none  the  less  clearly 
and  accurately  shows  the  clannish  feeling  and  fighting  qualities 
of  the  Scottish  people.  In  1396  a  bitter  feud  raged  between 
two  Scottish  clans,  known  respectively  as  Clan  Chattan  and 

325 


326 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


Clan  Rae.  At  length  it  was  determined  that  the  matters  in 
dispute  should  be  submitted  to  the  arbitrament  of  the  sword, 
each  side  selecting  thirty  champions.  The  event  aroused 
great  interest  throughout  the  kingdom,  and  upon  the  day  fixed 
for  the  battle  the  king  and  his  court,  together  with  the  nobility 
generally,  assembled  to  view  the  conflict.  It  was  found,  when 
each  side  counted  its  band  of  chosen  warriors,  that  only 
twenty-nine  of  the  selected  champions  of  Clan  Chattan 
were  present.  It  was  proposed  that  the  Clan  Rae  should 
withdraw  one  of  its  warriors  in  order  that  the  number  on  both 
sides  might  be  equal.  Yet  so  indomitable  was  the  spirit  of 
these  brave  fellows  that  not  one  would  consent  to  surrender 
the  honor  of  appearing  in  the  lists  as  champion  of  his  clan. 
After  some  delay,  a  soldier,  who  belonged  to  neither  of  the 
hostile  factions,  was  found  who  consented  to  supply  the  place 
of  the  missing  man,  and  the  battle  proceeded.  When  it  was 
over,  all  of  the  thirty  representatives  of  the  Clan  Rae  save  one 
lay  dead  upon  the  field,  while  of  those  of  the  Clan  Chattan,  only 
ten,  beside  the  volunteer,  were  left  alive,  and  each  of  these 
was  more  or  less  seriously  wounded.  The  sole  survivor  of  the 
unfortunate  thirty  who  had  done  such  valiant  battle  in  behalf 
of  the  Clan  Rae,  refusing  to  surrender,  and  at  the  same  time 
being  unwilling  to  continue  so  unequal  a  contest,  threw  him¬ 
self  into  the  river  Tay  and  found  safety  in  flight. 

A  very  famous  duel  was  fought  in  Scotland  at  an  early  day 
by  Sir  Evan  Lochiel,  chief  of  the  famous  Clan  Cameron,  and 
an  English  officer  named  Colonel  Pellew.  For  two  hours  they 
fought  furiously  and  incessantly,  when  the  English  officer  was 
disarmed.  Dropping  his  own  sword,  Lochiel  clinched  with 
his  antagonist,  and  for  half  an  hour  the  two  wrestled.  At  last 
they  fell,  the  Scottish  chief  being  underneath.  Although  the 
smaller  and  weaker  of  the  two,  Sir  Evan  managed  to  fasten 
his  teeth  upon  the  throat  of  his  adversary  and  to  tear  away 
considerable  quantities  of  flesh,  which  he  still  retained  in  his 
mouth  when  carried  off  the  field.  To  such  brutish  barbarity 
dueling  can  reduce  a  naturally  brave  and  humane  man. 

“Trial  by  battel”  was  introduced  into  Ireland  about  the 
time  it  was  adopted  in  Scotland,  and  for  a  time  was  confined 


D  U  E  L I  N  G— C  O  N  T I N  U  E  D 


327 


to  its  legitimate  judicial  domain.  Some  of  the  judicial  com¬ 
bats  which  took  place  even  at  a  comparatively  late  day  were 
remarkable  no  less  for  their  sanguinary  character  than  for 
their  attendant  circumstances  of  brutality.  One  of  the  most 
noted  of  these  was  a  combat  which  occurred  in  1538  between 
two  determined  Celts,  who  rejoiced  in  the  somewhat  striking 
names  of  Connor  McCormack  O’Connor,  and  Teig  McGilpatrick 
O’Connor.  The  former  was  several  times  severely  wounded 
and  finally  killed.  The  duel  was  fought  within  the  walls  of 
Dublin  Castle,  in  the  presence  of  the  Lord  Justices  of  Ireland 
and  the  members  of  the  Irish  Privy  Council.  The  head  of  the 
dead  man  was  severed  from  his  body  and  laid  before  the  mem¬ 
bers  of  the  Judiciary  by  the  victorious  Teig. 

Of  an  impetuous,  not  to  say  quarrelsome,  disposition,  the 
people  of  Ireland  took  very  kindly  to  the  new  institution,  and 
soon  began  to  settle  their  own  private  disputes  by  means  of 
personal  encounters,  and  dueling  speedily  became  the  decided 
fashion.  The  rise  of  the  duel  was  much  more  rapid  in  Ireland 
than  in  Scotland,  and  was  sustained  after  it  had  been  almost 
entirely  discontinued  in  the  latter  country,  and  also  after  it 
had  practically  disappeared  from  England.  The  reason  of  this 
may  be  found  in  the  fact  that  the  people,  particularly  those  of 
the  better  class,  were  far  from  disapproving  of  the  practice. 
During  the  last  days  when  an  Irish  Parliament  sat  in  College 
Green,  Dublin,  duels  were  of  frequent  occurrence.  Nor  were 
they  confined  to  the  young  and  hot-headed  representatives  of 
the  impulsive  Celts ;  many  of  the  leading  men  of  the  country, 
often  those  connected  with  the  government,  exchanging  shots 
upon  the  dueling  ground.  Such  statesmen  as  O’Connel, 
Curran,  Gratton,  Sheridan,  and  numerous  others,  regarded  the 
sending  of  a  challenge  to  mortal  combat  as  one  of  the  most 
natural  and  commendable  acts  of  life.  More  than  that,  they 
looked  upon  one  who  declined  to  accept  a  challenge  as  a 
coward  and  poltroon.  There  were  few  Irishmen  of  any  pub¬ 
lic  prominence  during  the  latter  part  of  the  last  century  who 
had  not,  at  some  period  of  his  career,  “fought  his  man.” 
With  such  examples  before  them,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  that 
the  young  men  of  Ireland,  particularly  those  of  the  upper 


328 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


classes,  generally  and  almost  eagerly  fell  into  the  practice 
which  had  the  favor  of  those  whom  they  regarded  as  the  fore¬ 
most  men  on  earth.  Despite  this  education,  which  amounted 
almost  to  second  nature,  it  appears  that  at  the  period  under 
discussion  the  fighting  of  a  duel  was  not  regarded  as  a  reason 
for  future  enmity  between  the  participants  therein.  Indeed, 
a  crossing  of  swords  or  an  exchange  of  shots  frequently  wiped 
out  all  past  ill  feelings  and  made  devoted  friends  of  the  late 
combatants. 

Of  all  the  counties  of  Ireland,  those  of  Tipperary  and  Gal¬ 
way  acquired  and  maintained  the  highest  reputation  for  the 
prevalence  of  dueling  among  nearly  all  classes  of  people. 
The  former  county  was  especially  noted  for  the  number  of  its 
excellent  swordsmen,  while  the  people  of  Galway  were  no  less 
famous  for  their  proficiency  in  the  use  of  the  pistol.  The 
inhabitants  of  counties  Roscommon  and  Sligo  also  enjoyed  the 
reputation  of  being  excellent  shots,  and  were  by  no  means 
averse  to  the  demonstration  of  their  skill  in  personal  encoun¬ 
ters,  which  were  often  brought  about  through  the  most  trivial 
causes.  In  County  Mayo  the  sword  and  the  pistol  were  alike 
favorite  weapons  among  duelists,  the  prevalent  sentiment 
appearing  to  have  been  that  provided  it  were  possible  to  have 
a  fight,  it  made  little  difference  what  engine  of  destruction 
was  selected. 

In  a  word,  during  the  period  under  consideration  dueling 
was  so  popular  in  Ireland  that  not  the  slightest  effort  looking 
toward  its  repression  was  put  forth  by  either  Parliament  or 
the  courts;  legislators  and  judges  being  alike  ready  to  resort 
to  the  practice  upon  any  and  very  nearly  all  occasions. 

The  stringent  laws  of  Great  Britain,  which,  after  the  union, 
applied  to  Ireland,  speedily  had  the  effect  of  discouraging  the 
practice  of  dueling,  which  is  now  practically  unknown  in  that 
country.  That  personal  encounters  are  still  common  in 
Ireland  is  true,  but  they  do  not  occur  by  appointment,  which 
is  the  initial  step  in  what  is  properly  termed  a  duel. 

Although  dueling  probably  originated  among  the  Ger¬ 
manic  people,  it  never  became  as  prevalent  there  as  in  France, 
and  some  other  countries  of  Europe.  Joseph  II.,  who  became 


D  U  E  L  I  N  G— C  O  N  T  I  N  U  E  D 


329 


Emperor  of  Germany  in  1765,  having  previously  been  king  of 
Rome,  took  a  decided  stand  against  the  practice,  which  was 
quite  frequent  in  his  day,  particularly  among  military  men. 
“The  custom  is  detestable,”  declared  this  monarch,  “and 
shall  not  be  permitted  to  thrive  in  my  army.  I  despise  men 
who  send  and  accept  challenges  to  meet  each  other  in  mortal 
combat.  Such  men  are,  in  my  estimation,  more  despicable, 
by  far,  than  were  the  Roman  gladiators.  ’  ’ 

The  pronounced  position  of  the  Emperor  Joseph  seems  to 
have  had  much  to  do  with  checking  dueling  in  Germany, 
which,  since  his  day,  has  never  assumed  the  proportions  of 
ancient  times.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  German  is  but  little 
addicted  to  quarreling.  The  Teutonic  disposition  is  generally 
regarded  as  decidedly  phlegmatic ;  and  the  average  German, 
while  standing  for  his  own  rights,  is  careful  to  observe  the 
rights  of  others,  and  is  far  more  scrupulous  in  the  matter  of 
inflicting  a  wrong  upon  another  than  in  resenting  an  affront 
offered  to  himself.  At  the  same  time,  no  one  doubts  the  cour¬ 
age  of  the  Germans,  which  has  been  demonstrated  on  too 
many  hard-fought  battle-fields  to  admit  of  question.  It  is 
generally  supposed  that  the  students  of  the  modern  German 
universities  are  greatly  addicted  to  dueling.  That  actual 
encounters  sometimes  occur  between  them  is  undoubtedly  true, 
yet  by  far  the  greater  proportion  of  those  reported  are  nothing 
more  than  fencing-bouts  with  sharp  weapons.  They  may  be 
termed  foolish,  but  can  hardly  be  called  deadly  affairs,  since 
the  seconds,  who  are  always  armed  as  well  as  the  principals, 
usually  interfere  to  prevent  serious  bloodshed.  A  large  num¬ 
ber  of  this  class  of  duels  are  annually  fought  in  Germany. 

There  are  not  wanting  writers  who  do  not  hesitate  to 
assert  that  with  the  advent  of  the  Second  Empire  in  France, 
which  they  allege  to  have  been  in  all  essential  respects  a  hol¬ 
low  mockery  and  an  empty  sham,  came  the  inauguration  of  a 
laxity  of  morals,  which  in  some  of  its  aspects  was  hardly 
equaled  during  the  reign  of  the  most  dissolute  of  the  sover¬ 
eigns  of  the  House  of  Bourbon.  Without  conceding  or  deny¬ 
ing  the  justice  of  this  criticism,  it  is  possible  to  say,  without 
fear  of  successful  contradiction,  that  within  the  last  half  cen- 


330 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


tury  a  species  of  dueling  has  arisen  in  France  which  is  as 
contrary  to  the  dictates  of  ordinary  morality  as  it  is  far 
removed  from  inducing  the  personal  danger  which  attends 
similar  combats  in  almost  every  other  country.  The  politi¬ 
cian,  journalist,  man  about  town,  and,  in  fact,  nearly  every 
one  in  the  French  capital,  rather  prides  himself  upon  sending 
a  challenge  for  causes  which  either  the  Teutonic  or  Anglo- 
Saxon  races  would  regard  as  utterly  insufficient.  Fortunately 
for  the  quick-witted,  hot-headed  Frenchmen,  the  customs  of 
his  country  afford  him  an  opportunity  for  the  vindication  of 
his  “honor”  without  the  incurring  of  any  special  personal 
risk.  Among  men  who,  while  deprecating  the  custom,  would 
engage  in  personal  combat  only  when  they  expected  to  give 
or  receive  a  mortal  wound,  modern  French  duels  provoke 
ridicule  and,  in  many  cases,  excite  contempt.  The  principals 
meet;  the  utmost  niceties  of  “The  Code”  are  observed;  two 
or  three  harmless  lunges  with  a  sword  are  exchanged ;  no  one 
receives  a  scratch;  but  offended  Gallic  honor  is  thoroughly 
satisfied.  Whatever  may  be  thought  or  said  by  way  of  justi¬ 
fication  or  condemnation  of  the  custom  of  dueling,  the  modern 
French  duel  cannot  be  regarded  in  any  other  light  than  as  a 
travesty  upon  manly  courage  and  an  insult  to  human  intelli¬ 
gence. 

Some  French  duelists  of  modern  times  have  appeared  upon 
the  field  so  often  that  their  names  have  become  as  familiar  in 
the  United  States  as  in  France.  Perhaps  the  most  noted  of 
these  are  the  famous  Paul  de  Cassagnac  and  Henri  Rochefort. 
Dr.  Clemenceau  has  also  achieved  an  unenviable  distinction 
on  the  same  line.  He  is  equally  expert  with  the  pistol  and  the 
sword,  and  few  men  care  to  face  him  in  an  encounter  of  this 
character.  Indeed,  it  is  said  in  France  that  to  meet  either 
Clemenceau  or  De  Cassagnac  is  to  insure  a  passport  to  the 
hospital  and  possibly  to  the  grave.  Rochefort  is  also  a  capital 
shot,  yet  he  once  showed  his  fear  of  meeting  De  Cassagnac, 
declining  to  accept  the  latter’s  challenge  except  upon  the 
terms  that  they  should  fight  with  loaded  pistols,  breast  to 
breast.  De  Cassagnac  declared  that  such  a  stipulation 
amounted  to  a  positive  invitation  to  commit  both  suicide  and 


NOTED  AMERICAN  DUELS 


33* 


murder,  and  refused  to  entertain  it.  These  men,  with  a  few 
others,  furnish  exceptions  to  the  rule  now  generally  prevalent 
in  France  that  dueling  is  merely  a  pleasant  and  harmless 
pastime. 

Some  early  travelers  among  North  American  Indian  tribes 
of  the  far  west,  describe  a  mode  of  dueling  as  prevalent 
among  them  which  was  certainly  peculiarly  their  own.  When 
it  was  determined  between  two  adversaries  that  a  duel  was 
unavoidable,  the  unwritten  law  of  the  tribe  required  that  both 
combatants  should  meet  death.  The  party  receiving  the  chal¬ 
lenge  appeared  upon  the  field  unarmed,  and  was  speedily  dis¬ 
patched  by  his  antagonist.  The  latter,  while  his  enemy  was 
still  weltering  in  blood,  was  expected  to  present  his  own 
weapon  to  some  relative  or  friend  of  the  dying  man,  and 
calmly  await  the  mortal  wound  which  was  certain  to  be 
given.  ' 

While  personal  encounters  are  common  among  the  hot¬ 
headed  Mexicans,  the  duel,  in  the  sense  in  which  that  word  is 
usually  understood,  is  comparatively  infrequent.  The  Mexi¬ 
can  is  quick  alike  in  perceiving  and  in  resenting  an  affront, 
but  an  encounter  usually  follows  the  giving  of  an  insult 
immediately,  and  upon  the  very  spot  where  it  was  received. 
A  common  mode  of  challenging  is  for  the  party  who  considers 
himself  aggrieved,  either  to  throw  his  glove  in  his  adversary’s 
face,  or  to  wave  it  before  him.  This  is  well  understood  to  be 
a  challenge  to  a  fight,  and  is  never  declined,  unless  by  a  self- 
confessed  coward,  which  is  a  rare  commodity  in  that  country. 
The  challenging  party  commonly  has  either  his  pistol  or  his 
knife  drawn  at  the  time,  and  his  antagonist  is  not  always  for¬ 
tunate  enough  to  be  able  to  produce  his  own  weapon  in  self- 
defense.  The  knife  is  much  favored  by  the  Mexicans, 
particularly  among  those  in  the  country  districts.  Fights  of 
this  character  are  of  common  occurrence  at  weddings,  and  it  is 
not  infrequently  the  case  that  the  groom,  and  sometimes  the 
bride  even,  is  killed.  Friends  of  the  two  men  between  whom 
the  first  quarrel  originated,  espouse  the  side  of  one  or  the 
other  of  the  antagonists  and  a  general  fight  ensues,  in  which 
it  often  happens  that  many  of  the  guests  are  killed  by  random 


332 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


shots.  When  a  duel,  as  such,  is  fought,  the  details  are 
arranged  between  friends  of  the  contending  parties,  one  prin¬ 
cipal  never  sending  a  challenge  directly  to  the  other.  The 
locality  most  favored  is  a  dark  room,  whither  the  two  enemies 
repair,  neither  accompanied  by  a  friend,  and  fight,  usually  to 
the  death,  with  knives.  Indeed,  when  the  door  is  opened  it  is 
often  found  that  two  dead  bodies  are  lying  upon  the  floor. 
This  description  of  dueling  is  especially  common  in  Yucatan. 
The  deadliness  of  the  passions  of  the  antagonists  may  be 
inferred  from  the  fact  that  it  is  the  custom  to  keep  the  door  of 
the  room  tightly  closed  until  absolute  silence  reigns  within. 

Another  form  of  dueling  to  which  Mexicans  and  South 
Americans  frequently  resort,  takes  place  on  horseback.  These 
encounters  generally  occur  upon  the  pampas  or  plains.  Two 
lines  are  marked  out  upon  the  ground  at  a  stipulated  distance, 
and  one  horseman  takes  up  his  location  at  each.  Urging  their 
animals  to  full  speed  they  ride  past  each  other,  each  thrusting 
at  his  antagonist  with  his  sword  as  he  goes  by.  No  sooner 
have  the  riders  reached  each  the  line  at  which  his  opponent 
had  been  posted  than  he  wheels  about,  and,  again  riding  at 
full  speed,  makes  another  lunge  at  his  adversary  as  he  goes 
by.  This  is  continued  until  one  of  the  duelists  is  unhorsed. 

Dueling  never  prevailed  to  any  considerable  extent  in  the 
United  States,  or  in  the  English  Colonies  before  the  Revolu¬ 
tion,  and  this  should  be  regarded  by  all  true  Americans  as 
highly  complimentary  to  the  nation,  and  to  the  character  of 
the  people,  whose  enlightened  public  sentiment  and  ideas 
touching  the  sanctity  of  human  life,  have  caused  the  practice  to 
fall  into  absolute  disrepute.  To  send  a  challenge  to  mortal 
combat  to-day,  unless  in  some  rude  portion  of  the  far  west, 
where  border  manners  prevail  and  local  government  is  weak, 
would  cause  the  sender  to  be  either  despised  or  ridiculed,  fre¬ 
quently  both.  Those  who  have  suffered  grievances  of  a  sub¬ 
stantial  nature  have  ample  redress  at  the  hands  of  the  law,  to 
which  they  are  not  slow  in  appealing.  Thus  the  practice  of 
dueling,  which  originated  in  one  of  the  forms  of  trial  provided 
by  the  law,  has  with  us  given  place  to  the  law  itself,  whose 
improved  methods  usually  provide  substantial  justice  and  leave 


NOTED  AMERICAN  DUELS 


333 


no  excuse  for  an  injured  man  to  make  himself  his  own  judge, 
jury  and  executioner. 

Americans,  as  a  rule,  are  high-spirited,  and  not  in  the  least 
wanting  in  courage.  Personal  insults  are  resented,  but  not 
after  the  rules  of  the  “Code.”  Sometimes  shooting  affrays 
follow  altercations,  but  more  frequently  the  difficulty  is  settled 
by  an  appeal  to  those  weapons  with  which  every  man  has 
been  provided  by  nature. 

So  far  as  dueling  ever  prevailed  in  this  country,  it  was 
ever  much  more  affected  in  the  South  than  in  the  North.  In 
the  former  section,  the  old  “cavalier”  spirit  has  always  largely 
existed  and  the  word  “honor”  given  a  meaning  that  never 
obtained  among  the  Puritans  of  New  England  and  their  west¬ 
ern  descendants.  The  existence  in  the  South  of  an  aristocracy 
founded  principally  upon  wealth — particularly  broad  estates — 
and  the  presence  of  an  enslaved  raoe,  are  doubtless  the  leading 
causes  of  this  distinction.  Happily  for  the  country,  this 
difference  has  now  well-nigh  disappeared ;  and  the  people  of 
our  republic  are  substantially  one  common  brotherhood.  At 
the  present  time,  dueling  is  almost  unknown  in  the  South, 
popular  sentiment  being  nearly  as  strong  against  it  there  as  in 
the  North. 

Not  only  do  statutes  of  the  national  government  prohibit 
and  severely  punish  dueling,  but  every  State  in  the  Union  has 
provided  severe  penalties  for  engaging  in  the  practice,  the 
offense  being  made  a  felony.  In  many  States  the  sending  or 
carrying  of  a  challenge  to  mortal  combat  is  made  an  offense 
punished  by  severe  penalties.  In  every  State,  the  killing  of  a 
man  in  a  duel  is  treated  as  murder,  or  at  least  manslaughter. 
The  respect  that  Americans  entertain  for  the  laws  of  their  own 
making  has  no  doubt  much  to  do  with  the  almost  universal 
contempt  for  the  duelist.  At  the  same  time,  laws  are  the 
result  of  public  sentiment,  and  those  against  this  barbarous 
practice  had  their  origin  in  the  good  sense  and  good  morals  of 
those  who  founded  our  Republic. 

The  circumstance  that  dueling  never  prevailed  in  this 
country  to  the  extent  that  it  did  in  Europe,  is  due  primarily 
to  the  fact  that  the  practice  was  greatly  discouraged  in  the  old 


334 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


world  before  any  considerable  settlements  were  made  here. 
But  during  the  latter  part  of  the  eighteenth  century,  when 
duels  were  common  in  England,  they  were  far  from  being 
unknown  in  the  United  States,  although,  except  in  the  South¬ 
ern  States,  they  were  never  upheld  by  public  sentiment. 
Few  encounters  of  this  character  between  men  of  great 
prominence  have  occurred  here.  The  most  noted  one  was  that 
between  Aaron  Burr  and  Alexander  Hamilton,  which  occurred 
July  ii,  1804.  The  death  of  General  Hamilton  plunged  the 
nation  into  grief,  and  created  a  sensation  that  has  seldom  been 
equaled  in  this  country. 

Both  Hamilton  and  Burr  had  a  prominent  part  in  the  build¬ 
ing  of  our  Republic,  and  both  at  an  early  day  became  impor¬ 
tant  factors  in  the  political  history  of  the  nation.  As  early  as 
1790  a  decided  political  rivalry  existed  between  the  two  states¬ 
men,  Hamilton  being  prominent  in  the  party  known  as  the 
Federalists,  while  Burr  became  one  of  the  leaders  of  the 
Republican — now  the  Democrat — party.  Although  a  young 
man,  Hamilton  was  the  intimate  friend  of  Washington,  while 
Burr  was  closely  associated  with  Thomas  Jefferson.  Both 
aspired  to  become  President  of  the  Republic.  Upon  more  than 
one  occasion  Hamilton  had  reflected  upon  the  character  of 
Burr,  writing,  as  early  as  1792:  “In  a  word,  we  have  an 
embryo  Caesar  in  the  United  States,  ’tis  Burr.”  At  length, 
Hamilton  declared  in  the  presence  of  Dr.  Charles  D.  Cooper,  a 
personal  friend  of  Burr,  that  he  “looked  upon  Mr.  Burr  as  a 
dangerous  man,  and  one  who  ought  not  to  be  trusted  with  the 
reins  of  government.  ’  ’ 

On  June  18,  1804,  Aaron  Burr  sent  to  General  Hamilton  an 
open  letter  from  Dr.  Cooper,  which,  he  said,  advised  him  that 
Hamilton  had  made  some  statements  reflecting  upon  his 
honor,  and  insisting  that  the  latter  either  withdraw  the  same, 
or  acknowledge  the  correctness  of  Cooper’s  statement.  This 
communication  from  Burr  was  delivered  to  General  Hamilton 
by  Mr.  W.  P.  Van  Ness,  who  evidently  regarded  himself  as 
being  either  a  present  or  prospective  bearer  of  a  challenge. 

Hamilton’s  antipathy  to  dueling  was  well  known  and  had 
been  frequently  expressed,  yet  his  courage  was  undoubted. 


NOTED  AMERICAN  DUELS 


335 


Not  wishing  to  engage  in  a  personal  encounter  if  the  same 
could  be  avoided,  he  requested  the  privilege  of  being  per¬ 
mitted  one  or  two  days’  time  in  which  to  reflect  upon  the  con¬ 
tents  and  tenor  of  Colonel  Burr’s  communication.  This  was 
granted,  and  on  June  20th,  he  addressed  to  Burr  a  communica¬ 
tion  which,  in  its  happy  blending  of  courage  with  discretion, 
no  less  than  in  the  expression  of  manifest  willingness  on  the 
part  of  its  author  to  explain  any  cause  of  misunderstanding, 
absolutely  denied  the  right  of  his  political  opponent  to  accept 
as  correct  an  inferential  interpretation  of  anything  he  might 
have  said  in  the  course  of  private  conversation,  stands  out  as 
a  masterpiece  of  epistolary  skill  and  as  a  thorough  exposition 
of  the  principles  which  might  have  been  presumed  to  have 
actuated  such  a  man  under  such  circumstances. 

One  paragraph  from  this  celebrated  letter  is  well  worth 
quoting.  General  Hamilton  says:  “I  cannot  reconcile  it  with 
propriety  to  make  the  acknowledgment  or  denial  you  desire. 
Yet  I  will  add  that  I  deem  it  inadmissible,  on  principle,  to 
consent  to  be  interrogated  as  to  the  justness  of  the  inferences 
which  may  be  drawn  by  others  from  whatever  I  may  have  said 
of  a  political  opponent,  in  the  course  of  fifteen  years’  competi¬ 
tion.  If  there  were  no  other  objection,  this  would  be  suffi¬ 
cient,  that  it  would  tend  to  expose  my  sincerity  and  delicacy 
to  injurious  implication  from  any  person  who  may  at  any  time 
have  conceived  the  import  of  my  expressions  differently  from 
what  I  may  have  intended  or  may  afterwards  recollect.  .  . 

More  than  this  cannot  fitly  be  expected  from  me ;  and  espe¬ 
cially  it  cannot  be  reasonably  expected  that  I  shall  enter  into 
an  explanation  upon  a  basis  so  vague  as  that  which  you  have 
adopted.  I  trust,  on  more  reflection,  you  will  see  the  matter 
in  the  same  light  with  me.  If  not,  I  can  only  regret  the 
circumstance  and  abide  the  consequence.  ’  ’ 

On  the  day  following  the  date  of  General  Hamilton’s  reply 
to  his  first  communication,  Burr  sent  a  second  letter,  satirical 
in  its  language  and  undoubtedly  intended  to  be  particularly 
aggravating  in  tone.  He  regretted  “to  find  in  it”  (Hamilton’s 
letter)  “nothing  of  that  sincerity  and  delicacy  which  you” 
(Hamilton)  “professed  to  value. ’’  He  followed  this  sneer  with 


33^ 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


a  taunt  even  yet  more  exasperating.  ‘  ‘  Political  opposition,  ’  ’  he 
wrote,  “can  never  absolve  gentlemen  from  the  necessity  for  a 
rigid  adherence  to  the  laws  of  honor  and  the  rules  of  decorum. 
I  neither  claim  such  privilege  nor  indulge  it  in  others.” 

This  stinging  letter  produced  upon  General  Hamilton  the 
effect  which  its  writer  had  desired  and  expected,  and  on  the 
following  day  he  consulted  Mr.  Nathaniel  Pendleton,  whose 
services  as  a  second  he  had  determined  to  request  should  a 
meeting  with  Burr  prove  unavoidable. 

As  a  result  of  the  conference  between  Hamilton  and  Pen¬ 
dleton,  a  communication  was  sent  by  the  latter  to  Mr.  Van 
Ness  advising  the  latter  gentleman,  in  his  capacity  as  the  pro¬ 
posed  second  of  Burr,  that  it  was  impossible  for  General 
Hamilton  to  enter  into  further  correspondence  unless  Burr 
would  withdraw  his  last  letter,  and  write  one  which  would 
admit  of  an  amicable  reply.  Van  Ness,  acting  for  his  prin¬ 
cipal,  declined  to  withdraw  the  letter,  which  General  Hamilton 
regarded  as  particularly  offensive,  and  a  very  brief  corre¬ 
spondence  ensued. 

By  way  of  emphasizing  Hamilton’s  aversion  to  enter  into  a 
controversy  with  Burr,  such  as  that  on  which  the  latter  seemed 
determined  to  insist,  the  following  letter,  written  by  the 
former  under  date  of  June  22,  1804,  and  placed  in  the  hands 
of  Mr.  Pendleton,  should  be  cited: 

“Sir: — Your  first  letter,  in  its  style  too  peremptory,  made  a 
demand,  in  my  opinion,  unprecedented  and  unwarrantable. 
My  answer,  pointing  out  the  embarrassment,  gave  you  an 
opportunity  to  take  a  less  objectionable  course.  You  have  not 
chosen  to  do  it;  but  by  your  last  letter,  received  this  day, 
containing  expressions  indecorous  and  improper,  you  have 
increased  the  difficulties  to  an  explanation  intrinsically  to  the 
nature  of  your  application. 

“If  by  a  definite  reply  you  mean  the  direct  avowal  or  dis¬ 
avowal  required  of  in  your  first  letter,  I  have  no  other  answer 
to  give  than  that  which  has  already  been  given.  If  you  mean 
anything  different,  admitting  of  greater  latitude,  it  is  requisite 
you  should  explain.” 

This  letter  was  held  back  by  Pendleton  for  four  days,  in 


NOTED  AMERICAN  DUELS 


337 


hopes  that  a  hostile  encounter  might  yet  be  averted.  So 
determined,  however,  was  Colonel  Burr  and  his  second,  Mr. 
Van  Ness,  upon  forcing  a  duel,  that  all  efforts  looking  toward 
an  amicable  settlement  finally  fell  through,  and  General  Ham¬ 
ilton  consented  to  meet  Mr.  Burr,  because  he  believed  that, 
should  he  fail  to  do  so,  a  mistaken  public  opinion  would 
impeach  his  bravery  as  a  soldier  and  his  honor  as  a  gentleman. 
After  some  delay,  due  to  General  Hamilton’s  request  that  he 
might  be  accorded  time  in  which  to  attend  to  certain  cases 
pending  in  the  United  States  Circuit  Court,  in  which  he 
appeared  as  counsel,  the  two  men  met  on  July  n,  1804.  The 
locality  chosen  was  a  spot  upon  the  New  Jersey  shore,  on  the 
west  bank  of  the  Hudson,  where  now  stands  the  little  city  of 
Weehawken.  The  hour  named  was  seven  o’clock  in  the  morn¬ 
ing.  The  details  of  the  duel,  as  furnished  by  the  seconds, 
Messrs.  Van  Ness  and  Pendleton,  are  as  follows: 

“Colonel  Burr  arrived  first  on  the  ground,  as  had  been 
previously  agreed.  When  General  Hamilton  arrived  the 
parties  exchanged  salutations,  and  the  seconds  proceeded  to 
make  their  arrangements.  They  measured  the  distance,  ten 
full  paces,  and  cast  lots  for  the  choice  of  position,  as  also  to 
determine  by  whom  the  word  should  be  given,  both  of  which 
fell  to  the  second  of  General  Hamilton.  They  then  proceeded 
to  load  the  pistols  in  each  other’s  presence,  after  which  the 
parties  took  up  their  stations.  The  gentleman  who  was  to 
give  the  word  then  explained  to  the  parties  .the  rules  which 
were  to  govern  them  in  firing,  which  were  as  follows:  The 
parties  being  placed  at  their  stations,  the  second  who  gives 
the  word  shall  ask  them  whether  they  are  ready;  being 
answered  in  the  affirmative,  he  shall  say,  ‘One,  two,  three, 
fire,’  and  he  shall  then  fire  or  lose  his  fire.  He  then  asked  if 
they  were  prepared;  being  answered  in  the  affirmative,  he 
gave  the  word  ‘present,’  as  had  been  agreed  upon,  and  both 
parties  presented  and  fired  in  succession — the  intervening  time 
is  not  expressed,  as  the  seconds  do  not  precisely  agree  on  that 
point.  The  fire  of  Colonel  Burr  took  effect,  and  General 
Hamilton  almost  instantly  fell.  Colonel  Burr  then  advanced 
toward  General  Hamilton,  with  a  manner  and  gesture  that 


338 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


appeared  to  General  Hamilton’s  friend  to  be  expressive  of 
regret,  but  without  speaking  turned  about  and  withdrew, 
being  urged  from  the  field  by  his  friends,  with  a  view  to  pre¬ 
vent  his  being  recognized  by  the  surgeons  and  bargemen, 
who  were  than  approaching.  No  further  communication  took 
place  between  the  principals,  and  the  barge  that  carried 
Colonel  Burr  immediately  returned  to  the  city.  We  conceive 
it  proper  to  add  that  the  conduct  of  the  parties  in  this  inter¬ 
view  was  perfectly  proper  as  suited  the  occasion.” 

General  Hamilton  was  shot  in  the  right  side.  He  expired 
about  two  o’clock  on  the  following  morning.  He  recovered 
consciousness  before  his  death  and  expressed  his  strong  love 
for  his  wife  and  children  and  his  abiding  faith  in  the  Christian 
religion.  By  a  curious  coincidence,  Alexander  Hamilton’s 
eldest  son,  Philip  Hamilton,  was  killed  in  a  duel  at  Wee- 
hawken,  not  far  from  the  spot  where  his  father  afterwards  fell, 
January  io,  1802.  General  Hamilton  learned  of  the  place  of 
meeting  and  hastened  forward  to  prevent  it,  but  fainted  on 
the  way.  Hamilton’s  antagonist  was  G.  J.  Baker,  who  was 
the  challenged  party.  Mrs.  Alexander  Hamilton  survived  her 
husband  half  a  century,  dying  in  New  York  in  1854,  at  the 
advanced  age  of  ninety-seven  years. 

The  second  most  noted  duel  ever  fought  in  America  was 
between  two  famous  naval  officers,  Commodore  Stephen  A. 
Decatur  and  James  Barron.  The  meeting  took  place  March 
22,  1820,  at  Bladensburg,  Md.,  and  resulted  in  the  death  of 
Commodore  Decatur.  The  circumstances  which  led  up  to  this 
unfortunate  affair  are  of  sufficient  interest  to  be  briefly  stated 
in  this  connection.  Commodore  Decatur,  while  yet  a  captain 
in  the  navy,  had  served  under  Barron,  who  was  at  that  time 
himself  a  commodore.  In  1807,  while  the  commodore’s  flag¬ 
ship,  the  Chesapeake,  was  lying  in  the  harbor  of  Norfolk, 
Va.,  several  desertions  from  British  men-of-war  occurred, 
the  deserters  enlisting  as  marines  for  service  upon  the  Chesa¬ 
peake,  for  which  service  recruits  were  then  being  secured. 
The  British  commander  requested  that  these  deserters,  being 
British  subjects,  should  be  surrendered  to  the  representatives 
of  his  Majesty’s  government.  The  request  not  being  com- 


NOTED  AMERICAN  DUELS 


339 


plied  with,  the  English  Minister  at  Washington  made  a  formal 
demand  upon  the  American  government  of  a  like  character. 
The  authorities  at  Washington  declined  to  accede  to  the 
request,  and  while  the  matter  was  in  this  position,  the  Chesa¬ 
peake  put  out  to  sea,  with  the  deserters  on  board.  Thereupon 
the  British  government  directed  Captain  Humphreys  of  the 
frigate  Leonard  to  follow  the  American  vessel  and  take  these 
men  by  force  if  necessary.  These  orders  were  literally 
obeyed.  The  Leonard  overtook  the  Chesapeake,  hailed  her, 
and  sent  a  boat  alongside  in  command  of  a  lieutenant.  The 
latter  officer  was  received  on  board  the  Chesapeake  by  Com¬ 
modore  Barron,  and  proceeded  to  state  to  the  American  officer 
the  nature  of  the  instructions  given  Captain  Humphreys, 
adding  that  the  latter  had  no  discretion  in  the  premises,  and 
should  consider  himself  bound  to  obey  these  orders  unless  the 
men  in  question  were  given  up.  To  this  Barron  replied  that 
there  were  no  British  deserters  on  board  his  vessel.  The 
Englishman  thereupon  withdrew  and  returned  to  his  vessel. 
The  Leonard  at  once  drew  up  alongside  the  Chesapeake  and 
reiterated  the  demand  already  made  in  a  more  forcible  manner. 
Receiving  no  reply,  she  opened  fire  upon  the  American  man- 
of-war,  and  the  Commander  of  the  Chesapeake  struck  his 
colors  without  firing  a  gun.  A  crew  from  the  Leonard 
boarded  the  Chesapeake  and  took  from  her  four  of  the  English 
deserters,  together  with  an  American  sailor. 

As  a  matter  of  course,  this  affair  led  to  an  investigation  into 
Commodore  Barron’s  conduct  in  the  premises.  A  court- 
martial  was  ordered,  which  sentenced  Barron  to  suspension, 
although  giving  him  the  pay  which  the  regulations  of  the  serv¬ 
ice  allotted  to  officers  in  his  situation. 

Twelve  years  later  the  suspended  officer  applied  for  rein¬ 
statement  to  his  former  rank,  together  with  assignment  to 
active  service  at  full  pay.  He  alleged  that  the  findings  of  the 
court-martial,  although  reviewed  and  approved  by  the  Presi¬ 
dent,  had  been  grossly  unjust.  The  application  was  referred 
to  Commodore  Decatur,  who  had  succeeded  the  applicant  as 
Senior  Commodore  in  the  American  navy.  Decatur  unhesi¬ 
tatingly  expressed  the  opinion  that  the  application  ought  to  be 


340 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 

denied ;  and  while  disclaiming  any  sentiment  of  personal  ani¬ 
mosity  toward  Barron,  frankly  said  that,  in  his  opinion,  the 
conduct  of  the  latter  since  his  suspension  had  been  such  as  to 
forever  disqualify  him  for  reinstatement. 

This  action  on  the  part  of  Commodore  Decatur  led  to  a 
lengthy  correspondence  between  Barron  and  himself,  which 
extended  over  several  months,  and  in  the  course  of  which 
criminations  and  recriminations  were  freely  exchanged.  The 
final  result  was  the  sending  of  a  challenge  to  Decatur  by 
Barron.  The  meeting  was  arranged,  as  has  been  stated,  for 
March  22,  1820,  the  weapons  selected  by  the  challenged  party 
being  pistols.  Decatur  was  accompanied  to  the  field  by  a 
surgeon  and  by  his  second,  Commodore  Bainbridge.  Commo¬ 
dore  Barron’s  second  was  Captain  Elliot,  and  he  also  had  a 
surgeon  in  his  party.  The  preliminaries  having  been 
arranged,  the  fatal  signal  was  given.  Both  men  had  grown 
familiar  with  the  use  of  the  chosen  weapon  in  the  service  of 
their  country,  and  both  were  expert  marksmen.  At  the  word 
of  command,  they  fired  simultaneously,  the  ball  from  the  pis¬ 
tol  of  each  penetrating  the  body  of  the  other  at  nearly  the 
same  spot,  and  at  the  same  instant.  Both  fell,  one  mortally, 
the  other  severely  injured.  Decatur  had  received  his  death 
wound.  He  was  removed  to  his  house  in  Washington,  where 
he  soon  afterwards  expired,  his  last  intelligible  words  being  a 
condemnation  of  dueling  and  the  duelist. 

Although  Commodore  Decatur  deprecated  the  practice  of 
dueling  upon  his  deathbed,  the  affair  which  cost  him  his  life 
was  the  fourth  of  the  kind  in  which  he  had  been  engaged.  In 
1 799,  upon  the  advice  of  his  father,  he  challenged  an  officer  of 
an  Indian  ship,  lying  at  Philadelphia.  The  meeting  took 
place  near  New  Castle,  Delaware.  Decatur  wounded  his 
antagonist  in  the  hip,  but  escaped  uninjured  himself.  In  1801, 
while  on  service  in  the  Mediterranean,  he  challenged  one  of 
the  officers  of  a  Spanish  ship.  This  matter  was  arranged  with¬ 
out  a  “meeting.  ”  In  1803  he  served  as  second  for  Midship¬ 
man  Joseph  Bainbridge  in  an  encounter  with  one  Cochran,  the 
English  Secretary  at  Malta.  Knowing  his  principal  to  be  a 
poor  marksman,  Decatur  insisted  that  they  should  fire  at  four 


NOTED  AMERICAN  DUELS 


34i 


paces;  as  a  result  the  Englishman  was  killed,  while  Bain- 
bridge  escaped  uninjured. 

The  duel  that  may  be  reckoned  third  among  American 
encounters,  from  the  standpoint  of  the  prominence  of  the  prin¬ 
cipals,  took  place  February  24,  1838,  in  Maryland,  not  far  from 
the  national  capital.  Both  of  the  contestants  were  members 
of  Congress,  one  being  the  Hon,  Jonathan  Cilley  of  Maine, 
the  other  the  Hon.  William  J.  Graves  of  Kentucky.  Major 
Ben  Perley  Poore,  whose  reminiscences  of  public  men  are  well 
known  to  most  readers,  has  written  the  following  succinct 
account  of  this  famous  and  most  unnecessary  encounter : 

“Mr.  Cilley,  in  a  speech  delivered  in  the  House  of  Repre¬ 
sentatives,  criticised  a  charge  of  corruption  brought  against 
some  unmarried  congressmen  in  a  letter  published  in  the  New 
York  Courier  and  Enquirer ,  over  the  signature  of  ‘A  Spy  in 
Washington,’  and  indorsed  in  the  editorial  columns  of  that 
paper.  Mr.  James  Watson  Webb,  the  editor  of  the  Courier 
and  Enquirer ,  immediately  visited  Washington,  and  sent  a 
challenge  to  Mr.  Cilley  by  Mr.  Graves,  with  whom  he  had  but 
a  slight  acquaintance.  Mr.  Cilley  declined  to  receive  the 
hostile  communication  from  Mr.  Graves,  without  making  any 
reflection  on  the  personal  character  of  Mr.  Webb.  Mr.  Graves 
felt  himself  bound  by  the  unwritten  code  of  honor  to  espouse 
the  cause  of  Mr.  Webb,  and  challenged  Mr.  Cilley  himself. 
The  challenge  was  accepted,  and  the  preliminaries  were 
arranged  between  Mr.  Henry  A.  Wise,  as  the  second  of  Mr. 
Graves,  and  Mr.  George  W.  Jones  as  the  second  of  Mr. 
Cilley.  Rifles  were  selected  as  the  weapons,  and  Mr.  Graves 
found  difficulty  in  obtaining  one,  but  was  finally  supplied  by 
his  friend  Mr.  Rives,  of  the  Globe.  The  parties  met,  the 
ground  was  measured,  and  the  combatants  were  placed.  On 
the  third  fire  Mr.  Cilley  fell,  shot  through  the  body,  and  died 
almost  instantly.  Mr.  Graves,  on  seeing  his  antagonist  fall, 
expressed  a  desire  to  render  him  some  assistance,  but  was  told 
by  Mr.  Jones,  ‘My  friend  is  dead,  sir!’  Mr.  Cilley,  who  left 
a  wife  and  three  young  children,  was  a  popular  favorite,  and 
his  tragic  end  caused  great  excitement  all  over  the  country. 
Mr.  Webb  was  generally  blamed  for  having  instigated  the  fatal 


342 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


encounter ;  certainly,  lie  did  not  endeavor  to  prevent  it.  Mr. 
Graves  was  never  afterward  re-elected — indeed,  no  man  who 
has  killed  another  in  a  duel  has  ever  been  elected  to  office  in 
Kentucky.  ” 

A  committee  was  appointed  by  the  House  of  Representa¬ 
tives  to  investigate  the  matter,  and  on  April  25th  they  made  a 
full  report,  severely  denouncing  Mr.  Graves  for  the  course  he 
had  pursued,  and  recommending  that  he  be  expelled  from  the 
House,  but  leaving  Webb,  the  real  instigator  of  the  whole 
difficulty,  to  the  laws  of  the  country  and  the  effect  of  public 
opinion,  in  the  concluding  paragraph,  which  is  as  follows: 

“The  committee  entertain  no  doubt  that  James  Watson 
Webb  has  been  guilty  of  a  breach  of  the  privileges  of  the 
House;  but  they  concur  unanimously  in  the  opinion  that  if 
there  be  any  real  ground  to  believe  that  a  conspiracy  to  assas¬ 
sinate  actually  existed,  as  set  forth  in  that  atrocious  paper 
drawn  up  by  him,  signed  by  Daniel  Jackson  and  William  H. 
Morell,  sworn  to  by  the  latter,  and  published  in  the  New  York 
Courier  and  Enquirer ,  he  be  left  to  the  chastisement  of  the 
course  of  law  and  of  public  opinion,  and  that  the  House  will 
consult  its  own  dignity  and  the  public  interest  by  bestowing 
upon  him  no  further  notice.” 

Among  the  numerous  duels  that  occurred  in  this  country 
during  the  early  portion  of  the  present  century  may  be  men¬ 
tioned  the  fatal  meeting  between  General  Andrew  Jackson 
and  Charles  Dickinson,  which  took  place  May  30,  1806,  near 
Adairville,  Tennessee.  This  may  be  called  one  of  the  most 
noteworthy  occurrences  of  the  kind  in  the  history  of  the 
country,  both  by  reason  of  the  distinguished  character  of  the 
combatants  and  the  circumstance  that  thev  were  “crack 

j 

shots,”  and  each  very  desirous  of  taking  the  other’s  life. 

If  the  sending  of  a  challenge  to  engage  in  a  combat  to  the 
death  were  ever  justifiable,  General  Jackson  was  excusable  for 
his  action.  Dickinson  had  cast  serious  reflections  upon  the 
character  of  Mrs.  Jackson,  and  the  fighting  spirit  of  “Old 
Hickory,”  which  manifested  itself  later  at  the  battle  of  New 
Orleans,  was  thoroughly  aroused.  Both  men  were  terribly  in 
earnest,  and  both  were  as  cool  and  collected  as  if  bound  on  the 


NOTED  AMERICAN  DUELS 


343 


most  pacific  errand.  On  the  way  to  the  rendezvous,  it  is  said 
that  Dickinson  amused  his  friends  by  showing  his  expertness 
with  a  pistol,  putting  four  bullets  into  a  space  that  could  be 
covered  with  a  silver  dollar,  at  a  distance  of  twenty-four  feet. 
It  is  related  that,  having  severed  a  cord  with  a  pistol-shot,  near 
the  tavern  where  the  party  had  stopped  for  refreshments,  he 
said  to  the  landlord,  as  he  rode  away:  “If  General  Jackson 
comes  along  this  way,  be  kind  enough  to  show  him  that.  ’  ’ 

The  duel  took  place  in  the  morning,  and  was  fought  with 
pistols.  The  weapons  were  to  be  held  downward  until  the 
word  was  given,  after  which  the  combatants  were  to  fire  as 
soon  as  they  pleased.  Dickinson  first  fired.  Jackson  raised 
his  left  arm  and  held  it  tightly  across  his  chest.  Seeing  that 
the  general  was  not  disabled,  Dickinson  cried  out:  “Great 
God!  Have  I  missed  him?”  General  Jackson  attempted  to 
return  the  fire,  but  the  weapon  stopped  at  half-cock.  Recock¬ 
ing  the  pistol,  he  fired  upon  the  now  defenseless  man,  shooting 
him  through  the  body  below  the  ribs.  He  died  about  nine 
o’clock  that  evening.  Dickinson’s  bullet  had  struck  Jackson 
in  the  breast,  breaking  two  of  his  ribs,  but  not  inflicting  a 
dangerous  wound.  After  the  affair  was  over,  the  general  said 
to  his  second  that  he  would  have  lived  long  enough  to  kill  that 
traducer  of  his  wife  even  if  he  had  been  shot  through  the 
heart. 

The  same  political  dispute  that  led  to  the  fatal  duel  between 
Burr  and  Hamilton  led  to  a  meeting  between  Honorable 
DeWitt  Clinton  and  Honorable  John  Swartwout,  which  took 
place  near  the  city  of  New  York.  Five  shots  were  exchanged, 
the  fourth  and  fifth  wounding  Mr.  Swartwout;  after  which  his 
opponent  declined  either  to  apologize  or  continue  the  fight. 

A  most  noted  duel  was  fought  near  San  Francisco,  Sep¬ 
tember  13,  1859,  between  two  famous  Californians — Honorable 
David  C.  Broderick,  United  States  senator,  and  the  Honorable 
David  S.  Terry,  ex-chief-justice  of  the  State.  Like  Burr  and 
Hamilton,  Terry  and  Broderick  were  bitter  political  oppo¬ 
nents.  They  were  both  Democrats,  but  leaders  of  opposing 
wings  of  that  then  dominant  party.  The  immediate  cause  of 
the  duel  was  a  speech  made  by  Judge  Terry  in  Sacramento,  in 


344 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


which  he  called  Broderick  an  arch-traitor.  The  meeting  was 
arranged  for  the  12th  of  September,  at  sunrise.  The  prin¬ 
cipals  and  their  seconds  were  arrested  on  the  ground,  but  were 
subsequently  discharged,  as  no  actual  misdemeanor  had  been 
committed.  The  meeting  was  then  arranged  for  the  next 
morning  at  a  place  some  ten  miles  from  San  Francisco.  The 
arrangement  had  gained  some  publicity,  and  about  eighty 
spectators  were  present.  At  the  first  exchange  of  shots, 
Broderick  fell,  mortally  wounded.  He  lingered  in  great  pain 
until  September  16th,  when  he  died.  His  death  plunged  Cali¬ 
fornia  into  mourning.  No  duel  on  the  Pacific  coast  has  ever 
attracted  the  attention  or  raised  the  animosities  that  this  one 
did. 

As  already  suggested,  dueling  has  fallen  into  general 
neglect  and  disgrace  in  this  country,  and  the  sender  of  a  chal¬ 
lenge  is  either  ridiculed  or  despised — frequently  both.  Better 
methods  and  manners  have  gained  the  ascendency  with  us, 
and  a  return  to  “the  code’’  cannot  be  expected.  The  custom 
was  long  defended  and  justified,  but  a  more  enlightened  senti¬ 
ment  has  at  last  prevailed,  and  the  taking  of  human  life  under 
the  forms  of  the  unwritten  laws  of  society  no  longer  generally 
prevails,  except  in  the  most  barbarous  countries. 


* 


CHAPTER  XX 


THE  CRONIN  CASE 

The  entire  annals  of  crime  scarcely  present  a  darker  page 
than  that  devoted  to  the  “Cronin  Case.”  Although  nearly  a 
decade  has  elapsed  since  its  commission,  this  awful  murder  is 
still  vividly  remembered  by  thousands,  and  it  will  never  be 
forgotten  as  long  as  crime  flourishes  and  continues  to  wield  its 
weird  fascination  over  the  minds  and  hearts  of  men. 

A  stranger  case  has  never  presented  itself.  The  motives 
were  evidently  complex;  revenge,  perverted  patriotism,  the 
obligations  of  a  secret  oath,  cupidity,  the  determination  to 
prevent  disastrous  disclosures — all  these  considerations  were 
apparently  present,  and  all  were,  seemingly,  utilized  to  impel 
forward  those  who  laid  the  dark  plans  and  to  nerve  the  hands 
of  the  heartless,  unfeeling  wretches  who  carried  them  into 
execution. 

The  domain  of  fiction  presents  no  stranger  plot,  no  more 
deliberate  and  artificial  plan  for  taking  the  life  of  a  human 
being  than  appears  in  this  celebrated  case. 

The  killing  of  a  law-abiding  and  respected  citizen  always 
excites  horror  and  detestation,  but  the  dark  mystery  that  for  a 
time  hung  over  this  awful  murder,  the  unusual  motives  for  its 
commission,  and  the  despicable  efforts  made  to  blacken  the 
memory  of  the  dead  man,  aroused  the  liveliest  interest,  the 
most  intense  indignation.  Involving,  as  it  did  in  a  manner, 
the  organized  movement  for  the  amelioration  of  the  people  of 
Ireland,  the  crime  became  at  once  an  international  affair;  its 
details  were  printed  in  every  civilized  language  on  earth  and 
eagerly  read  by  the  peoples  of  all  nations. 

The  “Cronin  Case”  will  doubtless  long  maintain  the  posi¬ 
tion  it  has  taken  at  the  head  of  the  class  of  crimes  within 


345 


t 


346  MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 

which  it  falls,  since  perverted  ingenuity  and  lack  of  human 
conscience  can  scarcely  induce  man  to  go  beyond  it. 

Philip  Patrick  Henry  Cronin  was  born  at  Cork,  Ireland,  in 
1846,  being  the  youngest  of  fifteen  children,  and  when  seven 
months  old  was  brought  to  New  York  City  by  his  parents. 
His  father,  John  Gregg  Cronin,  removed  to  St.  Catharines, 
Ontario,  about  1856,  taking  Patrick,  as  he  was  commonly 
known,  with  him  to  Canada,  where  he  received  a  very  good 
education.  About  1864  he  left  St.  Catharines  and  took  up  his 
abode  in  Oil  City,  Pa.,  where  he  lived  eighteen  months,  divid¬ 
ing  the  time  between  working  in  a  drug  store  and  teaching 
school.  Leaving  Oil  City,  he  spent  some  time  at  Clearfield, 
Pa.,  and  then,  about  1868,  removed  to  St.  Louis,  where  he 
secured  a  position  as  a  shipping  clerk. 

But  young  Cronin  was  a  man  of  decided  ability,  and  had  no 
mind  to  spend  his  life  in  commercial  pursuits.  He  became  a 
passenger  agent  for  the  St.  Louis  &  Southwestern  Railroad, 
and  devoted  his  leisure  time  to  the  study  of  medicine,  reading 
law  also  in  connection  with  his  medical  studies.  In  1878, 
when  thirty-two  years  of  age,  he  graduated  in  medicine  from 
the  Missouri  Medical  College,  McDowell  University;  That 
same  year  he  went  to  the  Paris  Exposition  as  commissioner  for 
the  State  of  Missouri. 

Returning  to  St.  Louis,  Dr.  Cronin  began  the  practice  of 
his  chosen  profession,  for  which  his  diligent  studies  and  some 
seven  years’  practical  experience  as  a  druggist  had  admirably 
qualified  him.  In  1882,  Dr.  Cronin  removed  to  Chicago, 
where  he  speedily  acquired  a  fine  medical  practice.  He  was 
never  married,  and  made  his  home  while  in  Chicago  with  T. 
T.  Conklin,  a  liquor  dealer  who  resided  at  468  North  Clark 
street,,  and  whose  acquaintance  he  had  formed  in  St.  Louis. 

Though  reared  in  America,  Dr.  Cronin  never  forgot  the 
land  of  his  birth.  He  sympathized  strongly  with  Ireland,  and 
early  identified  himself  with  various  movements  looking  to  the 
relief  of  his  distressed  countrymen.  Physically  and  mentally, 
he  was  a  strong  man,  and  carried  into  Irish  affairs  the  earnest¬ 
ness  and  rugged  honesty  which  characterized  his  private  and 
professional  life.  A  prominent  member  of  the  Irish  Nationalist 


THE  CRONIN  CASE 


347 


party,  he  was  ever  watching  for  fraud  and  malfeasance.  He 
was  persistent,  combative,  even,  in  his  integrity;  he  knew 
nothing  of  policy  where  honesty  was  concerned,  and  freely 
denounced  fraud  and  double-dealing  whenever  and  wherever 
they  presented  themselves. 

Such  a  man  could  not  choose  but  make  enemies,  any  more 
than  he  could  avoid  making  fast  and  devoted  friends  among 
those  who  shared  his  feelings  and  aspirations  and  endorsed  his 
methods  for  honestly  administering  Irish-American  affairs. 
Dr.  Cronin  was  a  prominent  member  of  the  great  Irish  society 
known  as  the  Clan-na-Gael,  being  for  some  years  the  Senior 
Guardian  of  a  Chicago  camp.  At  the  time  of  his  arrival  from 
St.  Louis  the  affairs  of  the  organization  were  virtually  in  the 
control  of  three  men,  called  the  “Triangle,”  of  whom  Alex¬ 
ander  Sullivan  was  the  recognized  head.  So  secret  were  the 
affairs  of  this  society  kept  that  very  few  of  its  members  even 
knew  the  identity  of  the  national  treasurer. 

Under  such  a  state  of  affairs,  fraud,  plain  theft,  was  a 
matter  easy  to  compass  and  tolerably  secure  from  detection. 
Large  sums  of  money  were  being  constantly  collected  for 
the  cause  of  Ireland,  and  the  disbursements  being  usually 
secretly  and  confidentially  made,  no  system  of  auditing  was 
possible,  so  far  as  the  ordinary  members  were  concerned.  Dr. 
Cronin  finally  discovered,  as  he  claimed,  a  very  serious  short¬ 
age  in  the  funds  of  the  organization.  He  made  formal 
charges  and  pressed  them  with  persistence,  bitterness  even, 
being  a  most  earnest  and  aggressive  man. 

This  led  to  a  break  in  the  Clan-na-Gael,  and  the  formation 
of  a  rival  society,  which  was  followed  by  the  expulsion  of  the 
doctor,  who  could  not  be  induced  to  make  any  sort  of  compro¬ 
mise  with  those  whom  he  believed  to  be  fattening  on  the 
proceeds  of  collections  made  for  the  relief  and  freedom  of 
Ireland.  In  1888  there  was  a  reorganization  and  a  reunion 
of  the  Clan-na-Gael,  but  Cronin,  instead  of  returning  to  the 
fold,  continued  to  make  inquiries  and  press  investigations 
of  a  character  most  damaging  to  the  “Triangle”  and  its 
adherents.  He  was  denounced  by  several  camps,  and,  still 
persisting  in  his  investigations,  his  death  seemed  the  only 


34^ 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


thing  calculated  to  insure  the  safety  of  the  parties  most 
vitally  interested. 

Shortly  before  eight  o’clock  on  the  evening  of  Saturday, 
May  4,  1889,  a  top-buggy  drawn  by  a  white  horse  stopped 
before  No.  468  North  Clark  street,  the  residence  of  T.  T. 
Conklin.  A  young  man  alighted  and  inquired  for  Dr.  Cronin, 
stating  that  his  services  were  required  by  Patrick  O’Sullivan, 
an  iceman  of  Lake  View,  several  miles  north.  He  presented 
one  of  the  iceman’s  cards,  and  stated  that  a  man  in  his  employ 
had  been  very  badly  injured,  and  required  the  immediate 
attendance  of  a  surgeon.  Waiting  only  to  secure  his  surgical 
instruments,  the  doctor  entered  the  buggy  with  the  young  man 
and  was  driven  rapidly  away  to  the  northward.  He  was  never 
again  seen  alive  by  any  of  his  friends. 

Dr.  Cronin  was  very  regular  in  his  habits,  and  when  he  did 
not  return  during  the  night,  Mrs.  Conklin  became  very  much 
alarmed.  During  all  the  years  that  he  had  made  his  home 
with  the  Conklins  he  had  never  been  so  long  absent  from 
home  without  notifying  her  of  the  cause.  She  also  knew  of 
the  feud  with  the  Clan-na-Gael,  and  the  doctor  had  con¬ 
fidentially  informed  her  that  he  feared  an  effort  might,  at  any 
time,  be  made  upon  his  life. 

On  Sunday  morning  the  absence  of  the  doctor  was  com¬ 
municated  to  the  police,  and  the  matter  was  at  once  connected 
with  a  circumstance  reported  by  two  police  officers — Smith  and 
Hayden — in  Lake  View.  About  two  o’clock  that  morning  the 
officers  saw  a  wagon,  containing  two  men  and  a  large  trunk, 
being  driven  very  rapidly  to  the  northward.  Officer  Smith 
attempted  to  stop  the  wagon,  but  the  driver  did  not  heed  his 
command.  About  an  hour  and  a  half  later  the  officers  saw 
the  men  driving  south  in  the  same  wagon,  which  no  longer 
contained  the  trunk.  They  did  not  hail  the  men  this  time, 
thinking  the  matter  not  very  unusual. 

About  half-past  seven  on  the  morning  of  that  day  a  large 
trunk  was  found  in  a  ditch  on  Evanston  Avenue,  some  dis¬ 
tance  north  of  the  point  where  the  officers  had  seen  the  wagon. 
It  was  a  cheap  affair,  and  when  opened  was  found  to  contain 
a  quantity  of  absorbent  cotton  largely  saturated  with  blood, 


THE  CRONIN  CASE 


349 


the  interior  of  the  trunk  being  spotted  with  gore.  A  bunch  of 
human  hair  was  also  discovered. 

Captain  Villiers,  of  the  Lake  View  police-station,  speedily 
satisfied  himself  that  the  trunk  had  very  recently  contained  a 
human  body,  and  decided  that  a  foul  murder  had  been  com¬ 
mitted.  Learning  that  Dr.  Cronin  had  been  missing  since  the 
preceding  night,  he  at  once  advanced  the  theory,  subsequently 
shown  to  be  correct,  that  the  doctor  had  been  murdered,  and 
his  body  carried  away  in  the  trunk. 

On  Sunday,  May  5th,  Patrick  O’Sullivan,  the  iceman, 
whose  card  had  been  presented  to  Dr.  Cronin  the  preceding 
evening,  stated  to  some  newspaper  reporters  that  he  had 
not  sent  for  the  doctor;  that  he  had  only  four  men  in  his 
employ,  and  that  none  of  them  had  been  injured.  He  knew 
absolutely  nothing  about  the  matter,  though  he  had  some 
acquaintance  with  Dr.  Cronin.  O’Sullivan  sustained  a  good 
reputation,  and  not  a  shadow  of  suspicion  fell  upon  him  at 
this  time. 

Dr.  Cronin  had  hosts  of  friends  in  Chicago,  many  of  whom 
were  identified  with  the  Irish  movement,  and  hence  were  in 
possession  of  certain  inside  facts  as  to  the  motives  that  might 
well  have  led  to  his  assassination.  These  men  at  once  decided 
that  the  doctor  had  been  the  victim  of  foul  play,  and  never 
wavered  in  this  opinion  or  relaxed  their  efforts  to  find  his 
body.  They  knew  the  nature  and  desperate  situation  of  his 
enemies,  and  subsequent  developments  quite  justified  their 
seemingly  hard  conclusions.  In  the  meantime,  the  country  in 
the  section  where  the  trunk  had  been  found  was  diligently 
searched.  Ditches  were  dragged,  bushes  scrutinized,  man¬ 
holes  in  sewers  opened,  the  surface  of  the  ground,  much  of 
which  was  unbroken  prairie,  carefully  searched  for  evidences 
of  a  masked  grave.  The  shore  of  the  lake  was  explored  for 
miles  for  traces  of  the  missing  man. 

But  the  enemies  of  Cronin  were  scarcely  less  active.  The 
excitement  was  every  day  increasing  and  the  columns  of  the 
newspapers  were  well  filled  with  theories  and  speculations. 
The  explanation  most  persistently  advanced  was  that  he  had 
quietly  departed  for  London  to  testify  before  the  Parnell  com- 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


35° 

mission,  then  in  session  there.  “Prominent  Nationalists,” 
whose  names  were  not  given,  certified  that  the  much-sought- 
for  man  had  been  quite  intimate  with  the  spy  and  informer, 
LeCarron,  while  the  latter  was  domiciled  in  Chicago.  These 
insinuations  were  well  calculated  to  deceive,  since,  like 
Cronin,  LeCarron  had  long  been  recognized  as  a  friend  of 
Ireland — had  not,  indeed,  been  seriously  suspected  until  he 
exposed  his  long  career  of  duplicity  by  giving  his  testimony 
in  London. 

On  May  ioth,  what  were  regarded  as  most  important 
developments  materialized  in  the  case.  A  man  giving  the 
name  of  Frank  Woodruff  was  arrested  on  the  West  Side,  being 
in  possession  of  a  horse  and  wagon  that  seemed  to  have  been 
stolen.  The  mention  of  the  Cronin  case  appeared  to  greatly 
embarrass  him,  and  he  finally  broke  down  and  made  what  he 
called  a  full  confession,  acknowledging  that  he  had  driven  the 
wagon  that  bore  away  the  body  of  Dr.  Cronin,  and  had 
dumped  the  blood-stained  trunk  into  the  ditch  in  Lake  View. 

Woodruff,  or  Black,  as  he  called  himself  at  times,  proved  a 
disturbing  element  in  the  investigation,  throwing  the  officers 
off  the  scent.  His  stories,  which  he  changed  and  modified 
from  time  to  time,  were  of  a  most  sensational  character,  but, 
as  they  finally  came  to  nothing,  may  well  be  dismissed. 
Woodruff  had  been  guilty  of  horse-stealing,  and  was  doubtless 
trying  to  shield  himself  from  the  effects  of  the  lesser  crime  by 
acknowledging  complicity  in  the  more  heinous  one,  of  which 
he  had  no  fears  of  being  convicted.  For  a  long  time  he 
puzzled  the  police  and  authorities  and  an  effort  was  finally 
made  to  connect  him  with  the  murder.  He  was  indicted  but 
never  brought  to  trial. 

The  plan  of  the  conspirators  went  much  further  than  the 
murder  of  Dr.  Cronin.  The  undoubted  intention  was  to 
blacken  his  memory,  to  convince  the  world  that  he  was  a 
traitor  to  the  Irish  cause,  a  paid  spy  of  the  British  govern¬ 
ment.  The  stories  connecting  the  doctor  with  LeCarron  were 
followed  by  claims  that  he  was  alive  on  the  ioth  and  nth  of 
May.  A  newspaper  correspondent  in  Toronto,  Canada,  sent 
in  reports  to  the  effect  that  he  had  seen  and  interviewed  the 

i 


I 


doctor  in  that  city.  He  claimed  to  be  bound  for  France,  and 
stated  that  he  had  left  Chicago  because  fearful  that  his  life 
would  be  taken  if  he  remained. 

It  seems  more  than  likely  that  the  reporter  who  sent  this 
news  to  his  paper  was  entirely  honest,  having  been  deceived 
by  a  plausible  though  false  identification  of  a  man  sent  to 
Toronto  to  impersonate  the  murdered  physician. 

The  plan  doubtless  was  to  trace  Dr.  Cronin  to  London, 
show  him  to  have  been  a  traitor  in  the  pay  of  England,  and 
have  his  dead  body  found  there  and  identified  by  articles 
which  his  enemies  could  readily  produce  for  that  purpose. 
Human  depravity  can  hardly  be  made  to  go  beyond  this.  Not 
content  with  taking  the  life  of  an  upright,  earnest,  and  entirely 
patriotic  man,  these  miscreants  aimed  to  brand  him  as  a 
traitor,  to  call  down  upon  his  name  and  memory  the  execra¬ 
tions  of  the  Irish  race  and  the  contempt  of  all  right-minded 
men. 

The  reports  that  Dr.  Cronin  had  been  seen  in  Toronto  and 
had  departed  for  Europe,  supported  by  the  insinuation  of  his 
enemies  that  he  was  a  traitor  to  the  cause  of  Ireland,  and  had 
departed  for  the  purpose  of  giving  evidence  in  London, 
coupled  with  the  lack  of  all  success  in  unraveling  the  dark 
mystery,  tended  to  discourage  the  police.  A  search  was  still 
maintained,  but  it  was  conducted  in  a  half-hearted  way,  with 
small  prospects  or  hopes  of  success.  Suddenly,  unexpectedly,  a 
discovery  was  made  that  set  at  rest  all  doubts,  silenced  the 
calumnies  and  falsehoods  of  enemies,  and  aroused  an  excite¬ 
ment  almost  without  precedent  in  Chicago,  an  excitement  that 
took  posesssion  of  the  entire  land,  and,  with  the  speed  of  the 
electric  telegraph,  encompassed  the  earth. 

On  May  22,  1889,  the  body  of  Dr.  P.  H.  Cronin  was  found 
in  a  Lake  View  catch-basin.  There  were  six  deadly  wounds 
upon  his  head,  including  three  skull  fractures.  The  evidences 
of  his  brutal  murder  were  plain  and  unmistakable.  When 
found  the  body  was  entirely  naked.  About  the  head  was 
wrapped  a  towel,  while  an  Agnus  Dei,  an  emblem  of  Catholic 
devotion,  hung  around  the  neck. 

The  discovery  was  made  about  four  o’clock  in  the  afternoon 


352 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


by  three  workmen  who  were  engaged  in  cleaning  sewers  in 
that  vicinity.  The  man-hole  where  it  was  discovered  is 
located  a  little  over  half  a  mile,  almost  due  north,  of  the  place 
where  the  trunk  was  found.  The  body  was  removed  to  the 
Lake  View  police-station,  where  it  was  positively  identified  by 
John  J.  Cronin,  a  brother,  T.  T.  Conklin  and  others.  The 
fact  of  the  discovery  became  speedily  known  in  the  city,  and 
an  almost  unprecedented  excitement  followed. 

The  day  after  the  finding  of  the  murdered  man’s  bloated 
remains  a  discovery  of  great  importance  was  made.  The 
newspapers  had  taken  a  lively  interest  in  the  case,  and  had 
spared  no  pains  to  unravel  the  mystery.  Patrick  O’Sullivan 
had  fallen  under  some  measure  of  suspicion,  principally  for  the 
reason  that  he  had,  some  time  before,  sought  an  introduction  to 
Dr.  Cronin  for  the  purpose  of  employing  him  by  the  year  to 
attend  to  any  of  his  employes  who  might  be  injured  in  the 
discharge  of  their  duties.  O’Sullivan  employed  but  three  or 
four  men,  and  such  a  contract  was  a  very  unusual  one  for  a 
man  of  his  class  to  make.  This  made  him  a  subject  for 
investigation  on  the  part  of  the  press. 

O’Sullivan  lived  some  two  miles  from  the  man-hole  from 
which  the  remains  of  Dr.  Cronin  were  taken.  About  one 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  from  his  house  was  a  cottage  known  as 
1872  Ashland  avenue,  afterwards  spoken  of  as  the  “Carlson 
Cottage,’’  from  the  name  of  its  owner,  Jonas  Carlson,  a 
Swede.  Learning  that  this  cottage  had  been  recently  occu¬ 
pied  in  a  somewhat  irregular  way,  it  was  visited  on  May  23d 
by  three  reporters,  who  were  horrified  at  finding  blood  on  the 
front  steps  and  likewise  on  the  sidewalk  in  front  of  the  house. 
Securing  an  entrance  to  the  cottage,  what  appeared  to  be  evi¬ 
dences  of  a  foul  crime  were  plainly  apparent.  Numerous 
blood-stains  were  found,  which  possessed  greater  significance 
from  the  circumstance  that  efforts  had  been  made  to  obliterate 
them  by  the  free  use  of  brown  paint.  The  conclusion  was 
reached  that  here  was  the  place  where  Dr.  Cronin  had  met 
his  death. 

The  police  at  once  took  up  this  most  promising  clue,  and 
State’s  Attorney  Longenecker,  Captain  Schuettler  of  the  city 


353 


THE  CRONIN  CASE 

police,  and  Captain  Wing,  of  the  Lake  View  police,  after  a 
hasty  consultation,  sent  for  O’Sullivan,  who  promptly  res¬ 
ponded  to  the  summons. 

Pressed  by  the  state’s  attorney,  the  iceman  told  a  plausible 
and  seemingly  truthful  story.  He  believed  that  there  had 
been  something  peculiar  going  on  at  the  Carlson  cottage. 
Two  suspicious-looking  men,  he  declared,  had  rented  it  of 
Carlson  in  March,  claiming  that  they  were  to  have  employ¬ 
ment  in  connection  with  his  ice  business,  although  they  were 
entirely  unknown  to  him. 

The  Carlsons,  father,  mother  and  son,  were  next  sent  for, 
and  placed  upon  the  rack,  though  there  was  no  reason  to  sus¬ 
pect  them  of  complicity  in  the  crime.  The  facts  elicited  were 
substantially  as  follows:  On  March  20th  a  tall,  slender  young 
man  had  called  on  Mrs.  Carlson  and  rented  the  cottage,  paying 
a  month’s  rent,  $12,  in  advance,  and  receiving  the  keys.  He 
gave  his  name  as  Frank  Williams,  and  stated  that  a  sister, 
who  was  to  act  as  housekeeper,  and  two  brothers,  were  coming 
in  a  few  days  from  Baltimore,  and  would  occupy  the  house 
with  him.  These  relatives  never  appeared. 

Three  days  later,  about  seven  o’clock  in  the  evening,  some 
articles  of  furniture  were  brought  to  the  cottage  by  an  express- 
man,  whose  identity  was  not  learned  by  the  Carlson’s,  though 
it  was  ascertained  by  Charles  Carlson,  the  son,  that  he  was  a 
Swede.  Weeks  passed  and  the  little  house  remained  unoccu¬ 
pied.  On  April  20th  the  tenant  called  again  and  paid  another 
month’s  rent.  The  Carlsons  asked  why  the  cottage  had  not 
been  occupied,  saying  that  it  did  not  look  well  to  see  it  stand¬ 
ing  vacant.  Williams  replied  that  his  sister  had  been  detained, 
but  that  they  would  take  possession  in  a  few  days. 

On  May  13th,  when  Dr.  Cronin  had  been  more  than  a  week 
missing,  a  short,  stout,  light-haired  man  called  on  the 
Carlsons.  He  stated  that  Frank  Williams  had  sent  him  to 
pay  the  rent,  and  added  that  his  sister  was  sick  and  that  he 
could  not  take  possession  for  some  time.  The  suspicions  of 
Mrs.  Carlson  had  been  aroused  by  this  peculiar  method  of  pay¬ 
ing  rent  in  advance  for  an  unoccupied  house,  and  she  declined 
to  receive  the  money;  nor  could  the  man  induce  her  to  do  so. 


354 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 

On  May  18th  a  letter,  posted  at  Hammond,  Indiana,  was 
delivered  to  Mr.  Carlson.  It  was  signed  “F.  W.,”  and  noti¬ 
fied  the  landlord  that  he  could  not  use  the  cottage,  and  asked 
him  to  store  the  furniture  in  the  place  in  his  own  basement, 
stating  that  he  would  call  soon  and  pay  him  for  his  trouble. 
An  investigation  alarmed  and  astonished  the  Carlsons,  but, 
instead  of  notifying  the  police,  they  waited  for  the  appearance 
of  their  mysterious  tenant. 

At  this  point  O’Sullivan  was  connected  with  the  plot.  The 
day  Williams  left  his  house  with  the  keys,  Jonas  Carlson  heard 
him  say  to  the  iceman:  “Well,  the  cottage  is  rented.’’  When 
the  second  month’s  rent  was  almost  due,  Carlson  asked 
O’Sullivan  if  he  knew  Williams,  to  which  the  iceman  replied: 
“Yes,  I  know  one  of  the  men.  He  is  all  right.’’  O’Sullivan 
also  stated  that  he  would  himself  be  responsible  for  one 
month’s  rent,  if  Williams  did  not  appear  and  promptly  pay  it. 
On  the  evening  of  May  4th  the  old  man  had  seen  Williams 
standing  on  the  front  steps,  and  later  had  heard  two  men  talk¬ 
ing  loudly  in  the  front  room  of  the  cottage. 

An  investigation  on  the  part  of  the  police  showed  that  the 
furniture  found  in  the  cottage,  which  was  meagre  in  quantity, 
together  with  a  large  trunk,  had  been  purchased  of  A.  H. 
Re  veil  &  Co.,  on  February  19th,  by  a  young  man  who  gave  the 
name  of  J.  B.  Simonds,  William  T.  Hatfield,  an  old  employ^, 
making  the  sale.  The  furniture  was  delivered  at  rooms  12 
and  15,  No.  117  South  Clark  street.  This  was  directly  across 
the  street  from  the  Chicago  Opera  House  building,  where 
both  Dr.  Cronin  and  Alexander  Sullivan  occupied  offices. 

On  the  day  when  Simonds  purchased  the  furniture,  he 
rented  the  two  offices  at  No.  117  South  Clark  street,  paying 
a  month’s  rent,  $42,  in  advance.  On  March  20th,  when  a  rep¬ 
resentative  of  the  landlord  called  to  collect  the  next  month’s 
rent,  he  found  the  doors  locked,  the  furniture  and  trunk  hav¬ 
ing  been  removed. 

The  last  doubt  that  might  have  lingered  in  the  minds  of  the 
police  as  to  Dr.  Cronin  having  been  murdered  in  the  Carlson 
cottage  was  dispelled  by  new  and  most  important  and  start¬ 
ling  revelations  made  by  William  Mertes,  a  milkman  of  good 


THE  CRONIN  CASE 


355 


reputation,  who  lived  on  Woodside  Avenue  in  Lake  View,  now 
a  part  of  the  city  of  Chicago. 

On  the  evening  of  May  4th,  between  eight-thirty  and  nine 
o’clock,  as  Mertes  was  passing  the  Carlson  cottage,  a  buggy, 
drawn  by  a  white  horse  and  containing  two  men,  stopped  in 
front  of  the  house.  A  tall  man  alighted  and  ran  rapidly  up  the 
steps.  The  door  was  opened  before  he  had  knocked,  and  the 
visitor  at  once  entered.  It  had  scarcely  closed  when  the  milk¬ 
man  heard  loud  and  seemingly  angry  voices  proceeding  from 
the  dwelling.  In  the  meantime,  the  remaining  occupant  of 
the  vehicle,  whose  face  Mertes  was  not  able  to  see,  drove 
rapidly  away.  The  details  of  a  fiendish  and  most  complicated 
plot  were  now  well  exposed,  and  naught  remained  but  to  arrest 
and  bring  the  murderers  to  justice. 

The  city  was  now  searched  for  the  expressman  who  had 
removed  the  furniture  and  trunk  from  No.  117  South  Clark 
street  to  the  Carlson  cottage.  For  some  time  not  a  clue  was 
discovered,  but  after  about  two  weeks’  work  the  detectives 
found  the  man  in  the  person  of  a  Swede,  named  Hukon 
Mortensen.  He  had  been  employed  by  a  man  whose  name  he 
did  not  learn,  but  whose  description  tallied  exactly  with  that 
given  by  the  Carlsons  of  Frank  Williams,  to  remove  a  lot  of 
furniture  from  No.  117  South  Clark  street  to  the  Carlson  cot¬ 
tage,  and  had  so  removed  it.  Williams  and  another  man 
brought  the  furniture  out  of  the  Clark-street  building,  and  the 
former  assisted  Mortensen  in  carrying  it  into  the  cottage. 

Iceman  O’Sullivan  had  now  fallen  under  great  suspicion. 
He  was  not  arrested,  but  was  placed  under  strict  surveillance, 
his  every  movement  being  closely  and  secretly  watched. 

So  far  an  elaborate,  far-reaching  scheme  had  been  devel¬ 
oped,  yet  the  plot  went  much  further  and  included  men  of 
good  standing  in  Chicago.  It  even  invaded  the  police  depart¬ 
ment,  and  involved  officers  who  were  paid  to  act  as  the  con¬ 
servators  of  the  peace,  and  to  ferret  out  crimes.  Called  forth 
in  the  night  to  exercise  his  art  as  a  surgeon  in  the  alleviation 
of  human  suffering  and  distress,  humane  Dr.  Cronin  was 
drawn  to  his  death  by  a  white  horse.  This  horse  became  the 
objective  point  of  many  inquiries,  and  its  discovery  proved  the 


3  5^ 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


disgraceful  exposure  of  a  trusted  member  of  the  Chicago  police 
force. 

At  the  time  of  the  Cronin  murder,  Daniel  Coughlin  was  a 
city  detective  attached  to  the  East  Chicago  Avenue  Police 
Station,  then  under  the  direction  of  Captain  Michael  J. 
Schaack.  Coughlin  was  one  of  the  men  detailed  to  run  down 
the  murderers,  yet,  instead  of  doing  this,  he  contrived,  by 
every  means  in  his  power,  to  throw  the  authorities  off  the 
track  of  the  criminals.  Daniel  Coughlin  was  identified  with 
the  National  Irish  movement,  and  a  prominent  member  of 
Camp  Twenty  of  the  Clan-na-Gael,  in  the  councils  of  which 
the  plot  is  supposed  to  have  originated. 

At  No.  260  North  Clark  street,  Patrick  Dinan  maintained  a 
livery-stable.  Coughlin  knew  Dinan  well,  and,  on  the  morn¬ 
ing  of  May  4th,  called  upon  the  latter  and  said:  “I  want  you 
to  keep  a  rig  in  readiness  for  a  friend  of  mine  to-night,  and  I 
don’t  want  you  to  say  a  word  about  it.  When  he  calls  for  it 
give  it  to  him,  and  I’ll  be  responsible  for  it.” 

About  seven  o’clock  that  evening  the  detective’s  “friend” 
called  at  the  livery-stable  as  arranged,  and  announced  that  he 
had  come  for  the  horse  ordered  by  Dan  Coughlin.  In  response 
to  this,  Dinan  ordered  a  white  horse  to  be  hitched  to  a  buggy 
for  the  use  of  the  customer.  To  this  the  latter  protested 
vigorously,  a  white  horse  evidently  not  being  to  his  liking. 
But  the  liveryman  was  obdurate,  and  the  evidently-impatient 
friend  of  the  detective  accepted  the  “Hobson’s  choice,”  and 
drove  away  with  the  white  horse.  Shortly  before  nine-thirty 
he  returned,  drove  into  the  barn,  and,  without  waiting  to 
speak  with  the  hostler,  who  was  in  another  part  of  the  build¬ 
ing,  quitted  the  place. 

The  white  horse  preyed  upon  Dinan ’s  mind,  and  two  or 
three  days  after  the  discovery  of  Dr.  Cronin’s  body  he  left  his 
stable  with  the  intention  of  laying  the  matter  before  Captain 
Schaack.  On  the  steps  of  the  station-house  he  met  the  man 
most  vitally  interested,  Officer  Daniel  Coughlin,  who  anx¬ 
iously  inquired  his  business.  Informed  that  the  visit  con¬ 
cerned  the  white  horse,  the  detective  became  plainly  excited, 
and  exclaimed:  “Look  here,  there  is  no  use  making  a  fuss 


THE  CRONIN  CASE 


357 


✓ 


about  this  matter.  You  keep  quiet  about  it.  Me  and  Cronin 
were  enemies,  as  lots  of  people  know,  and  it  might  get  me  into 
trouble.  Keep  it  to  yourself,  Dinan.  ” 

The  liveryman  assented,  yet  so  strong  was  his  mental 
reservation  that  he  hastened  to  lay  the  entire  matter  before 
Captain  Schaack,  whom  he  chanced  to  meet.  Instead  of 
ordering  Coughlin  under  arrest  or  acquainting  the  chief  of 
police  with  the  most  important  information,  Schaack  sent  for 
the  detective  and  frankly  told  him  the  story  he  had  heard,  at 
the  same  time  asking  for  an  explanation. 

Coughlin  had  a  ready-made  story  at  hand.  He  had  indeed 
engaged  a  horse  from  Dinan  for  a  man  named  Smith,  who  had 
come  to  the  station  and  introduced  himself  as  a  friend  of  the 
officer’s  brother  at  Hancock,  Michigan.  Beyond  this  he  pro¬ 
tested  that  he  knew  nothing.  Schaack  seems  to  have  been 
deceived  by  this  very  artificial  story,  and  simply  told  Coughlin 
to  find  Smith  and  bring  him  to  the  station. 

While  Detective  Daniel  Coughlin,  assisted  by  Detective 
Michael  Whalen,  a  cousin  of  O’Sullivan,  was  looking  for  the 
mythical  Smith,  Captain  Schaack  undertook  a  little  investiga¬ 
tion  on  his  own  account.  He  exhibited  the  horse  and  buggy 
to  Mrs.  Conklin.  She  was  not  very  emphatic  in  her  identifica¬ 
tion  and  Schaack  afterwards  claimed  that  she  had  utterly  failed 
to  recognize  it.  This  the  lady  denied,  claiming  that  she  had 
told  him  it  was  remarkably  like  the  one  in  which  Dr.  Cronin 
had  been  driven  away  from  her  flat. 

While  Schaack  was  temporizing,  Dinan  resolved  to  act  and 
called  upon  Chief  of  Detectives  Horace  Elliott,  to  whom  he 
stated  the  case.  As  a  result,  Coughlin  was  brought  before 
Mayor  Cregier  Chief  Hubbard,  Col.  W.  P.  Rend,  and  several 
other  gentlemen,  and  rigidly  examined  for  two  hours.  His 
answers  were  unsatisfactory  and  evasive,  and  he  was  sent  to 
the  armory  police-station  in  a  patrol  wagon.  At  the  same 
time,  Detective  Michael  Whalen  was  suspended  for  neglect  of 
duty. 

The  next  day  Coughlin’s  friend  Smith  appeared  at  police 
headquarters.  He  had  known  the  detective  at  Hancock, 
Michigan,  and  had  called  on  him  recently  at  the  police-station, 


358 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


but  had  said  nothing  about  securing  a  horse.  The  detective’s 
explanation  thus  fell  ingloriously  to  the  ground. 

In  the  meantime,  a  strong  net  had  been  woven  around 
Patrick  O’Sullivan,  and  on  May  27th  he  was  placed  under 
arrest.  Warrants  against  him  and  Coughlin  were  sworn  out 
by  John  Joseph  Cronin,  the  murdered  physician’s  brother,  and 
both  of  them  were  imprisoned  in  the  county  jail.  On  May 
28th  the  grand  jury  indicted  Coughlin,  O’Sullivan,  and 
Whalen.  They  were  formally  arraigned  before  Judge  Wil¬ 
liamson  on  May  31st,  and  remanded  for  trial. 

The  investigation  of  the  coroner  began  on  May  28th,  and 
occupied  eight  days.  It  was  one  of  the  most  sensational 
inquests  ever  held  in  the  country,  and  excited  world-wide 
interest.  The  facts  already  set  forth  were  clearly  established, 
and  some  new  evidence  of  importance  elicited.  Coughlin  and 
O’Sullivan  were  directly  connected,  it  being  shown  that  for 
some  time  before  the  eventful  4th  of  May  they  had  held  daily 
communication  over  the  telephone.  Evidence  tending  to 
show  a  conspiracy  on  the  part  of  certain  members  of  the 
Clan-na-Gael  to  take  Dr.  Cronin’s  life,  was  introduced,  besides 
many  things  showing  the  animus  of  Alexander  Sullivan, 
whom  Cronin  had  accused  of  misappropriating  funds  raised 
for  the  Irish  cause.  Alexander  Sullivan’s  speculations  were 
also  investigated,  and  it  was  shown  that  he  had  lost  large 
sums  of  money  on  the  Board  of  Trade.  Luke  Dillon,  one  of 
the  nine  members  of  the  executive  committee  of  the  Clan-na- 
Gael  in  America,  was  particularly  bitter  in  his  denunciation  of 
Sullivan,  declaring  that  he  had  a  decided  interest  in  silencing 
the  tongue  of  Dr.  Cronin,  who  was  in  a  fair  way  to  expose  his 
thefts  and  other  crimes. 

The  jury  recommended  that  Alexander  Sullivan,  Patrick 
O’Sullivan,  Daniel  Coughlin,  and  Frank  Woodruff,  alias  Black, 
be  held  to  the  grand  jury  as  principals  in,  or  accessories  to,  the 
murder  of  Patrick  Henry  Cronin.  That  night  Alexander  Sulli¬ 
van  was  arrested  in  his  bed  and  imprisoned  in  the  county  jail. 

The  arrest  of  this  man  proved  a  sensation  second  only  to 
the  discovery  of  the  mutilated  and  decomposing  remains  of 
Dr.  Cronin,  and  widespread  satisfaction  was  manifested,  the 


THE  CRONIN  CASE 


359 


general  opinion  being  that  a  blow  had  been  struck  at  the  root 
of  the  entire  diabolical  conspiracy.  But  the  joy  of  lovers  and 
upholders  of  the  law  was  a  short  life.  The  following  day  the 
prisoner  was  brought  before  Chancellor  Tuley,  who  admitted 
him  to  bail. 

To  the  alertness  and  sagacity  of  John  Collins,  an  Irish  - 
American  member  of  the  Chicago  police  force,  the  connection 
of  Martin  Burke  with  the  conspiracy  was  first  suspected. 
Burke  had  been  looked  upon  for  some  time  as  a  tool  of  the 
Clan-na-Gael.  He  had  become  a  member  of  the  notorious 
Camp  Twenty,  and,  through  the  aid  of  John  F.  Beggs,  a 
lawyer  afterwards  involved  in  the  plot,  and  that  of  Alexander 
Sullivan,  obtained  employment  in  the  city  sewer  department. 
He  frequented  the  low  saloons  of  the  North  Side,  and  had 
been  frequently  heard  to  denounce  Cronin  as  a  British  spy  who 
ought  to  be  “removed.”  These  points  attracted  the  attention 
of  Officer  Collins,  and  he  became  convinced  that  Burke  had 
been  connected  with  the  murder. 

Human  life  often  turns  upon  seeming  trifles,  and  an  almost 
forgotten  photograph  led  to  the  identification  and  subsequent 
arrest  of  Martin  Burke.  Some  years  before,  a  plot  of  land  in 
Mount  Olivet  cemetery  was  dedicated  as  the  last  resting-place 
of  Irish  Nationalists.  Upon  this  occasion  a  large  group- 
photograph  of  many  Clan-na-Gaels  was  taken,  in  which  the 
form  and  face  of  Burke  appeared.  Officer  Collins  secured 
from  the  photographer  who  had  taken  the  negative  a  copy  of 
this  picture,  which  he  exhibited  in  turn  to  the  three  Carlsons 
and  Hukon  Mortensen,  the  expressman.  All  of  these  persons 
unhesitatingly  selected  Martin  Burke  in  the  picture  as  a  por¬ 
trait  of  the  man  who,  under  the  name  of  Frank  Williams,  had 
rented  the  cottage  and  caused  the  furniture  to  be  removed 
there  from  the  offices  on  Clark  Street. 

But  the  bird  had  flown.  A  search,  which  proved  fruitless, 
was  at  once  instituted,  but  the  officers  were  too  late  to  appre¬ 
hend  the  much- wanted  man.  The  last  trace  found  of  him  in 
Chicago  was  on  the  day  of  Dr.  Cronin’s  funeral.  He  had 
exhibited  quite  a  large  sum  of  money  and  talked  vaguely 
about  making  a  trip  to  Ireland. 


36° 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


Weeks  passed  when,  late  one  night,  Chief  Hubbard 
received  the  following  dispatch : 

“Winnipeg,  Man.,  June  16,  1889. — Martin  Burke,  alias 
Delaney,  arrested  here  on  suspicion  of  complicity  in  the  Cronin 
case.  He  was  boarding  the  Atlantic  Express,  and  had  a  ticket 
for  Liverpool,  England.  McRae.” 

To  this  Chief  Hubbard  sent  the  following  reply : 

“Chicago,  Ills.,  June  16,  1889. — Hold  Martin  Burke,  alias 
Delaney,  by  all  means.  Will  send  officer  immediately.” 

Burke  had  been  arrested  upon  descriptions  sent  out  by 
Chief  Hubbard.  At  the  time  he  was  traveling  under  the  name 
of  W.  J.  Cooper.  In  a  short  time  Officer  Collins  arrived,  and 
soon  after  Expressman  Mortensen,  in  charge  of  Officer  J.  M. 
Broderick.  Fifty  prisoners  were  brought  forth,  from  whom  the 
expressman  speedily  selected  the  suspect  as  Martin  Burke. 

That  Burke  had  powerful  friends  was  soon  manifested. 
The  best  legal  counsel  was  secured,  and  every  effort  made  to 
prevent  his  extradition.  But  money  proved  powerless,  and  he 
was  brought  back  to  Chicago,  where  an  indictment  was 
promptly  returned  against  him. 

Before  Martin  Burke  left  Chicago,  he  had  employed  a  tin¬ 
smith  to  seal  up  an  oblong  tin  box.  The  clothing  and  surgical 
instruments  of  Dr.  Cronin  had  not  been  found,  and  the  belief 
gained  ground  that  the  general  plot  contemplated  their  ship¬ 
ment  to  Europe,  that  they  might  be  there  used  to  prove  that 
the  victim  had  arrived  there,  thus  tending  to  establish  the 
theory  of  the  conspirators  that  he  was  a  traitor  to  the  Irish 
cause. 

There  is  little  doubt  that  this  was  the  plan  decided  upon, 
for  the  tin  box  really  contained  the  missing  effects  of  the 
murdered  physician.  The  discovery  of  the  body  doubtless 
changed  the  plans,  which  could  not  longer  be  made  effective. 
Nearly  six  months  after  the  murder,  and  while  the  trial  was  in 
progress,  November  8,  1889,  the  long-searched-for  tin  box  was 
found  in  a  sewer,  beneath  a  man-hole  at  the  corner  of  Evan¬ 
ston  and  Buena  avenues,  a  mile  and  a  quarter  southeast  of 
where  the  body  had  been  discovered  in  May.  It  contained  the 


THE  CRONIN  CASE 


361 


clothing,  surgical  instruments  and  various  other  effects  of  the 
dead  man,  which  were  positively  identified.  His  gold  watch 
and  well-filled  purse  were  missing,  which  proved  that  the 
“patriotic  murderers”  were  not  above  plain  stealing.  The 
discovery  of  the  box  and  contents  formed  new  and  strong  links 
in  the  chains  drawn  around  the  accused  men. 

A  special  grand  jury  met  before  Judge  Shepard  on  June 
12th,  and  indictments  were  returned  against  John  F.  Beggs, 
lawyer  and  Senior  Guardian  of  Camp  Number  Twenty,  Daniel 
Coughlin,  Patrick  O’Sullivan,  Martin  Burke,  F.  J.  Woodruff, 
alias  Black,  John  Kunze,  and  Patrick  Cooney,  alias  “The 
Fox.” 

Strong  efforts  were  made  to  include  Alexander  Sullivan  in 
the  list,  but  the  evidence  was  regarded  as  insufficient  to  secure 
his  conviction,  and  he  escaped.  The  now  notorious  “Camp 
Twenty’  was  rigorously  investigated.  It  appeared  that 
Cronin  had  been  repeatedly  and  vigorously  denounced  in  this 
camp  by  Coughlin,  O’Sullivan,  Cooney,  Burke  and  others,  the 
claim  being  made  that,  like  LeCarron,  he  was  a  British  spy. 
It  is  not  at  all  unlikely  that  some  of  the  men  afterwards  impli¬ 
cated  in  the  most  awful  crime  of  recent  years,  were  led  to 
believe  that  these  charges  were  true,  and  that  a  feeling  of  false 
patriotism  was  called  into  action  to  accomplish  the  murder  of 
the  man  who  stood  in  the  way  of  those  who  had  directed  the 
affairs  of  the  Irish  National  party  and  stolen  its  funds.  At 
length,  John  F.  Beggs  appointed  a  secret  trial  committee. 
Late  in  February  it  held  several  meetings,  and  at  that  time,  it 
is  supposed,  the  death  of  Dr.  Cronin  was  decided  upon. 

Kunze  was  a  German  who  had  been  under  the  protection  of 
Dan  Coughlin  for  some  time.  He  was  identified  by  the  milk¬ 
man,  Mertes,  as  the  man  who  drove  Dr.  Cronin  to  the  Carlson 
cottage  on  the  night  of  May  4th,  and  at  the  time  it  was 
believed  that  he  was  as  guilty  as  the  rest.  Cooney,  “The 
Fox,”  was  not  arrested,  but  is  said  to  be  in  Chicago  at  the 
present  writing. 

The  parties  indicted  for  the  murder  of  Dr.  Cronin  were 
arraigned  on  August  30,  1889,  less  than  four  months  after  the 
day  when  the  crime  was  committed.  The  trial  was  held 


362 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


before  Judge  S.  P.  McConnell,  Joel  M.  Longenecker  being  the 
state’s  attorney.  The  best  obtainable  legal  talent  had  been 
retained  to  prosecute  and  defend.  Associated  with  the  state’s 
attorney  were  Luther  Laflin  Mills,  George  C.  Ingham,  and 
William  J.  Hynes.  Coughlin  was  represented  by  attorneys 
Forrest  and  Wing;  O’Sullivan  and  Kunze  by  Messrs.  Dona¬ 
hue  and  David,  while  Senator  Kennedy  of  Wisconsin  and 
Messrs.  Foote  and  Foster  appeared  for  Martin  Burke. 

A  long  time  was  consumed  in  securing  a  jury,  every  man 
being  most  searchingly  examined.  The  men  who  had  planned 
the  dastardly  murder  were  not  above  disreputable  methods, 
and,  on  the  thirty-seventh  day  of  the  trial — or  rather,  of  the 
efforts  to  secure  a  jury — a  jury-bribing  plot  was  laid  bare 
before  the  court.  The  attempt  to  pack  the  jury  seemed  to  be 
far-reaching.  Six  men  were  involved:  Thomas  Kavanaugh, 
steamfitter;  Alexander  L.  Hanks,  court-bailiff;  Mark  L. 
Solomon,  court-bailiff;  Fred  W.  Smith,  hardware  agent; 
Jeremiah  O’Donnell,  gauger;  Joseph  Kouen,  fruit  dealer. 
These  were  at  once  indicted  by  the  grand  jury.  Later  a  true 
bill  was  found  against  John  Graham,  confidential  clerk  of  A. 
S.  Trade,  a  prominent  attorney.  Graham  was  supposed  to 
have  been  the  ring-leader  in  the  enterprise,  the  real  represent¬ 
ative  of  the  parties  who  supplied  the  money.  None  of  these 
wretches  were  ever  adequately  punished. 

The  case  against  the  defendants,  as  already  set  forth,  was 
reinforced  in  many  particulars,  the  testimony  of  a  poor 
washerwoman,  Paulina  Hoertel,  being  especially  forceful. 
On  the  night  of  May  4th,  she  saw  the  buggy  drive  up  to  the 
Carlson  cottage ;  saw  a  tall  man,  presumably  Dr.  Cronin,  alight 
and  enter  the  house.  He  carried  a  black  satchel  or  box  in  his 
left  hand.  The  man  who  remained  in  the  buggy  drove  the 
white  horse  rapidly  away.  Scarcely  had  the  door  closed  when 
she  heard  a  loud  voice  from  within  the  cottage  cry:  “Oh, 
God!”  Then  there  was  a  noise,  what  seemed  to  her  like  the 
sound  of  a  blow,  and  a  heavy  fall.  Then  she  heard  the 
exclamation,  “Jesus!”.  “I  heard  the  far-away  cry  of  Jesus,” 
was  the  way  the  interpreter  rendered  her  words. 

As  strong  a  defense  was  made  as  the  circumstances  of  the 


THE  CRONIN  CASE 


363 


case  admitted,  alibis  being  the  line  principally  relied  upon. 
But  in  view  of  the  awful  chain  of  facts  that  had  been  forged 
by  the  State,  it  seemed  lamentably  weak. 

The  rebuttal  evidence  for  the  State  proved  strongly  sensa¬ 
tional,  a  matter  that  had  just  come  to  light  being  presented 
with  great  force.  This  was  introduced  on  Friday,  November 
29th.  On  the  preceding  day  Barney  Flynn,  a  city  detective 
who  had  arrested  Coughlin,  told  Chief  Hubbard  that  upon 
searching  Coughlin  at  the  station  he  had  found  two  pocket 
knives,  which  had  since  been  carefully  kept.  Both  of  these 
knives  were  positively  identified  by  T.  T.  Conklin  as  having 
belonged  to  Dr.  Cronin.  As  to  one  of  them  he  was  absolutely 
certain,  since  he  had  himself  carried  it  for  two  years  and  then 
given  it  to  Cronin.  The  other  one  he  had  found  in  the  street 
some  nine  months  before  and  carried  home.  This  knife  had 
struck  the  doctor’s  fancy,  and  he  had  appropriated  it  to  his 
own  uses,  carrying  it  in  his  vest  pocket. 

The  arguments  of  counsel  occupied  several  days,  and  were 
presented  with  great  force.  The  judge  delivered  a  lengthy 
charge,  and,  on  Friday,  December  13,  1889,  the  jury  retired 
to  consider  its  verdict.  The  jury  did  not  report  until  the 
afternoon  of  Monday,  December  16th,  having  been  locked  up 
over  seventy  hours.  It  was  afterwards  ascertained  that  one 
member  of  the  jury,  John  Culver,  had  held  out  against  the 
other  eleven  to  secure  a  sentence  of  imprisonment  for  life. 
The  verdict  was  as  follows: 

“We,  the  jury,  find  the  defendant  Kunze  guilty  of  man¬ 
slaughter  as  charged  in  the  indictment,  and  fix  his  punishment 
at  imprisonment  in  the  penitentiary  for  a  term  of  three  years. 

“We,  the  jury,  find  the  defendants,  Daniel  Coughlin, 
Patrick  O’Sullivan  and  Martin  Burke,  guilty  of  murder  in  the 
manner  and  form  as  charged  in  the  indictment,  and  fix  the 
penalty  at  imprisonment  in  the  penitentiary  for  the  term  of 
their  natural  lives.’’ 

This  verdict  failed  to  find  popular  favor.  If  Coughlin, 
Burke  and  O’Sullivan  were  guilty  of  the  awful  crime  of 
murdering  Dr.  Cronin,  they  should,  in  popular  estimation, 
have  expiated  it  upon  the  scaffold.  Feeling  ran  high  against 


36  4 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


Juror  Culver,  and  charges  of  bribery  were  freely  made,  which, 
as  a  matter  of  course,  he  indignantly  denied,  bringing  a  libel 
suit  against  one  Chicago  newspaper. 

Failing  to  secure  a  new  trial  in  the  court  below,  an  appeal 
was  taken  and  the  convicted  parties  removed  to  the  peniten¬ 
tiary  at  Joliet.  Upon  a  review  of  the  case  by  the  Supreme 
Court,  a  new  trial  was  ordered,  and  Daniel  Coughlin  was 
brought  back  to  Chicago  and  placed  in  jail.  Burke  and 
O’Sullivan  had  completed  the  exact  terms  of  their  sentence, 
both  having  died  in  prison  before  the  opinion  of  the  court  was 
handed  down. 

On  December  6,  1893,  a  jury  was  secured  before  Judge 
Richard  Tuthill,  and  the  second  trial  of  Daniel  Coughlin  for 
the  murder  of  Dr.  P.  H.  Cronin  was  formally  begun.  A  full 
jury  had  been  secured  on  November  24th,  but  three  of  its 
members  were  afterwards  disqualified,  as  a  result  of  charges 
of  bribery  and  irregularity,  and  considerable  time  was  con¬ 
sumed  in  filling  their  places.  The  State  was  represented  by 
Elisha  S.  Bottum  and  Kickham  Scanlon,  while  Daniel  Dona¬ 
hue  and  Judge  Wing  appeared  for  the  defendant. 

Although  less  than  four  years  had  elapsed  since  the  first 
trial,  many  of  the  witnesses  could  not  be  produced;  several  of 
them  were  dead,  while  a  still  larger  number  had  disappeared. 
This  greatly  hampered  the  State.  At  the  same  time  new  and 
cumulative  evidence  was  introduced  which  seemed  to  decidedly 
strengthen  the  case. 

Milkman  Mertes,  who  had  with  great  difficulty  been 
located  in  the  far  North  and  brought  back  to  Chicago,  testified 
that  about  eight  o’clock  on  the  night  of  May  4,  1889,  he  saw  a 
buggy,  drawn  by  a  dark  horse,  drive  up  to  the  Carlson  cot¬ 
tage.  A  large  man,  wearing  a  dark  brown  overcoat,  sprang 
out  and  hurried  up  the  steps,  unlocking  the  door  with  a  key. 

“Did  you  ever  see  either  of  these  men  again?”  the  witness 
was  asked. 

“Yes,’’  he  replied. 

“Where?” 

“There  he  is  sitting,  one  of  the  fellows.” 

The  milkman  pointed  to  the  defendant  Coughlin,  and  a 


THE  CRONIN  CASE  365 

buzz  of  excitement  ran  through  the  court-room  at  this  bit  of 
most  important  and  sensational  testimony. 

Mertes  freely  admitted  that  he  had  told  many  lies  about  the 
case,  but,  being  now  under  oath,  stoutly  maintained  that  he 
was'  telling  the  truth.  To  candid  minds  an  element  of  doubt 
must  attach  to  this  testimony.  Why  did  Mertes  not  tell  this 
story  upon  the  first  trial?  In  view  of  the  verdict  rendered,  it 
is  certain  that  the  jury  placed  little  credence  in  his  statement. 

Equally  sensational  testimony  was  given  by  Frank  Bar¬ 
deen.  He  was  an  engineer  and  for  some  time  previous  to  May 
1,  1889,  had  been  in  charge,  as  engineer,  of  the  Edgewater 
electric  light  plant.  He  had  left  the  place  on  May  1st,  but 
called  there  on  the  night  of  May  4th.  The  man  he  sought  was 
not  there,  so  he  sat  down  upon  the  steps.  While  there  he  saw 
a  wagon  being  driven  north  on  Evanston  avenue,  no  great 
distance  away.  One  man  was  driving  the  horse,  while  another 
was  walking  behind  the  wagon,  in  which  was  a  large  box,  a 
tool  chest,  he  took  it  to  be  at  the  time. 

Near  where  Bardeen  sat  was  a  thirty-two  candle  power 
incandescent  lamp  in  a  locomotive  head-light  reflector.  He 
turned  this  search-light  upon  the  wagon  and  recognized  in  the 
man  on  foot  the  defendant  Daniel  Coughlin,  whom  he  knew  by 
sight.  Bardeen  could  not  swear  to  the  exact  time,  but  thought 
it  was  between  one  and  two  o’clock  on  the  morning  of  May 
5  th  that  he  saw  Coughlin  walking  behind  the  wagon. 

The  testimony  of  this  witness  was  somewhat  shaken  by  the 
rigid  cross-examination  of  Judge  Wing.  Bardeen  stated  that 
he  saw  the  moon  about  four  o’clock  that  morning  while  on  his 
way  home,  whereas,  as  the  State  was  forced  to  admit,  the 
moon  set  on  the  night  of  May  4th  before  11:38  o’clock.  This 
mistake,  no  doubt,  had  the  effect  of  greatly  weakening  the 
engineer’s  testimony  in  the  minds  of  the  jury. 

Probably  the  strongest,  because  apparently  the  most  truth¬ 
ful,  of  all  the  new  testimony  introduced  was  that  of  Mrs. 
Lizzie  Foy.  Her  -husband,  Andrew  Foy,  was  an  Irish 
Nationalist  prominently  identified  with  the  Clan-na-Gael,  and 
had  an  undoubted  connection  with  the  plot  which  had  its 
consummation  in  the  “removal”  of  Dr.  Cronin.  She  knew 


366 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 

many  things  bearing  on  the  case,  and  finally,  as  a  matter  of 
conscience,  was  impelled  to  make  a  clean  breast  of  the  whole 
affair.  Great  efforts  were  made  to  prevent  her  from  testify¬ 
ing,  both  by  objections  in  court  and  threats  and  persecutions 
outside ;  indeed,  for  a  long  time  she  was  furnished  with  police 
protection. 

Her  testimony  was  clear,  distinct  and  of  a  decidedly  incrim¬ 
inating  character.  Her  house  was  visited  by  various  mem¬ 
bers  of  the  band  of  murderers.  Coughlin,  “Cooney  the 
Fox,”  Martin  Burke  and  some  others  were  there  at  different 
times  before  May  4,  1889;  Coughlin  a  number  of  times. 

Andrew  Foy  was  a  member  of  Camp  Twenty,  a  deadly  foe 
of  Dr.  Cronin,  and  an  intimate  friend  of  Coughlin,  Cooney 
and  Burke.  According  to  Mrs.  Foy’s  testimony,  the  details 
of  the  plot  were  discussed  in  her  house.  She  overheard 
enough  to  make  it  clear  that  some  one  was  to  be  put  to  death, 
and  that  instructions  had  been  received  to  that  effect.  On  the 
night  of  the  fateful  May  4th,  Andrew  Foy  went  out  early, 
before  eight  o’clock,  and  did  not  return  until  the  following 
morning,  when  he  stated  that  he  had  assisted  in  removing 
another  Irish  informer.  Subsequently,  Foy  made  a  confession 
to  his  wife,  giving  all  the  details  of  the  plot  and  the  execution 
of  the  crime. 

She  swore  that  on  the  twelfth  of  May  following  the  murder, 
about  seven  o’clock  in  the  evening,  Daniel  Coughlin  came  to 
her  house  asking  for  her  husband,  who  was  not  at  home. 
Then  she  continued: 

“I  said,  Andy  is  out  all  day;  I  say  I  am  uneasy  about  him; 
I’m  afraid  he  has  got  arrested;  I  say  he  ought  to  be  coming 
home.  He  knows  I  wait  dinner  for  him.  He  said:  He  will 
be  all  right.  He  said:  there’s  no  proof  against  Andy.  He 
will  be  all  right,  he  won’t  be  arrested;  he  will  turn  up  all  right. 
I  said:  This  is  a 'bad  thing  you  have  done;  better  you  had  left 
Dr.  Cronin  alone ;  he  will  do  more  harm  dead  than  alive.  He 
said:  Don’t  let  anybody  hear  you  talking  like  that;  don’t  talk 
like  that. 

“I  says:  I  am  getting  uneasy,  I  am  worried  about  Andy. 
What  am  I  to  do  with  my  seven  children?  He  said:  You  will 


THE  CRONIN  CASE 


367 


be  all  right,  you  will  be  taken  care  of,  you  will  be  well  looked 
after.  I  said:  Who  will  look  after  me  and  my  seven  children? 
He  said:  Alexander  Sullivan  is  a  good  friend  of  your  hus¬ 
band’s,  and  a  good  friend  of  mine.  He  will  look  after  you  all 
right.” 

Mrs.  Foy  was  examined  and  cross-examined  at  great 
length,  and  it  is  impossible  to  present  even  an  outline  of  her 
testimony.  She  was  attacked  by  the  defense,  and  an  effort 
made  to  show  that  she  had  been  influenced  to  testify  as  she 
did  by  Mrs.  T.  T.  Conklin.  Those  who  saw  her  on  the  wit¬ 
ness  stand  and  heard  her  tell  her  sad  story,  which  was  often 
interrupted  with  tears,  were  well  convinced  that  she  spoke 
truly. 

Taken  altogether,  a  strong  case  was  presented  by  the 
State,  though  it  would  appear  that  too  much  was  attempted 
in  the  way  of  new  testimony,  which  was  more  or  less  dis¬ 
credited  because  it  had  not  been  brought  forward  on  the  first 
trial.  After  being  out  only  six  hours  the  jury  brought  in  a 
verdict  of  not  guilty. 

It  is  difficult  to  understand  how  the  jury  reached  the  ver¬ 
dict  they  did.  It  was  openly  charged  that  they  had  been 
“fixed,”  and  it  seems  not  unlikely  that  some  corrupt  influence 
was  employed,  though  to  what  extent  it  was  carried  it  is 
impossible  to  even  conjecture.  Nearly  five  years  had  elapsed 
since  the  commission  of  the  crime,  and  popular  indignation 
had  somewhat  subsided ;  besides,  as  already  suggested,  it  was 
impossible  to  produce  all  the  witnesses  who  testified  on  the 
former  trial. 

A  stronger  case  of  circumstantial  evidence  has  seldom  been 
presented  than  was  brought  against  Daniel  Coughlin  and  his 
associates  in  crime.  That  the  murder  of  Dr.  Cronin  was  the 
result  of  the  persistency  with  which  he  followed  up  Alexander 
Sullivan  and  some  of  his  associates,  cannot  be  doubted  by  any 
candid  man  who  reads  the  testimony  given  on  the  two  trials, 
though  it  seems  most  probable  that  some  of  the  actors  in  the 
fearful  tragedy  were  led  to  believe  that  he  was  a  traitor  who 
stood  in  the  way  of  the  cause  of  Ireland. 

Taken  for  all  in  all,  the  results  of  the  long  prosecution 


368 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


were  far  from  satisfactory.  Two  of  the  assassins  died  in 
prison,  it  is  true,  but  many  of  the  conspirators  escaped  all 
punishment,  except  the  almost  universal  scorn  of  their  fellows. 
As  for  Daniel  Coughlin,  he  opened  a  saloon  in  one  of  the  prin¬ 
cipal  down-town  streets  of  Chicago,  and  has  prospered  far 
beyond  his  deserts. 


\ 


I)R.  CRONIN  ENTERING  THE  CARLSON  COTTAGE 


PAGE  355 


CHAPTER  XXI 


THE  HAYMARKET  MASSACRE 

A  fearful  crime,  actuated  by  hatred  of  the  law  and  the 
republican  institutions  of  America,  and  carried  into  operation 
through  the  obligations  of  a  secret  oath,  was  perpetrated 
in  Chicago,  on  the  night  of  May  4,  1886.  The  details  of 
this  most  sanguinary  affair,  which  has  passed  into  history 
as  the  “Haymarket  Massacre,”  are  still  fresh  in  the  minds 
of  many,  but  a  book  which  deals  with  the  great  homicides 
of  the  world  would  hardly  be  complete  without  some 
account  of  it. 

For  many  years  the  socialists  had  been  gaining  in  numbers 
in  Chicago.  The  labor  riots  of  1877  gave  them  an  oppor¬ 
tunity  to  perfect  organizations  which  had  been  languishing  for 
a  long  time.  The  police  forcibly  dispersed  a  meeting  called 
at  the  Voerwaerts  Turner  Hall,  for  the  apparent  purpose  of 
inciting  men  to  riot,  and  in  doing  so  incurred  the  decided 
enmity  of  an  organization  whose  members,  under  the  best 
conditions,  have  no  very  friendly  feeling,  either  for  the  law  or 
its  representatives.  Few  of  these  men  were  anarchists. 
Socialism  and  anarchy  are  two  widely  different  things.  The 
first,  in  its  theoretical  purity,  looks  to  a  more  orderly  arrange¬ 
ment  of  society  than  at  present  exists,  while  the  latter 
arrogantly  demands  the  abolition  of  all  law.  At  the  same 
time,  socialism  is  the  training-school  in  which  anarchists  are 
educated;  indeed,  but  for  the  one,  the  other  would  speedily 
die  out  through  lack  of  members.  By  1886  a  large  number  of 
anarchists  were  domiciled  in  the  metropolis  of  the  west,  and 
grave  fears  for  the  safety  of  the  city  were  entertained  by  the 
authorities.  The  conditions  were  most  favorable  for  riot  and 
disorder.  During  the  winter  of  1885  and  1886  a  labor  agita- 

369 


37o 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 

tion  to  secure  for  the  working  class  an  eight-hour  day,  was  in 
progress  in  all  parts  of  the  country.  It  was  proposed  to  carry 
this  into  effect  May  i,  1 886.  A  general  strike  seemed  immi¬ 
nent,  and,  all  over  the  land,  capital  and  labor  were  closely 
watching  each  other’s  movements.  Two  organs,  devoted  to 
anarchy,  were  at  that  time  published  in  Chicago:  the  Arbeiter 
Zeitung ,  edited  by  August  Spies,  and  the  Alarm ,  edited  by  A. 
R.  Parsons.  These  two  men  were  recognized  leaders  of  the 
anarchists,  and  with  them  was  included  Samuel  Fielden  and 
some  others. 

For  some  time  before  the  day  set  for  the  general  strikes  of 
organized  labor,  May  i,  1886,  there  had  been  a  strike  in  the 
great  McCormick  Reaper  Works,  on  Blue  Island  avenue,  or 
the  ‘  ‘  Black  Road,  ”  as  it  was  designated  by  the  workingmen.  It 
was  here  that  the  anarchist  leaders  saw  their  opportunity,  and 
endeavored  by  all  possible  means  in  their  power  to  inflame  the 
passions  of  men  already  smarting  under  what  they  doubtless 
thought  rank  injustice.  Warned  by  incendiary  articles  in  the 
Arbeiter  Zeitung  and  the  Alarm ,  the  police  were  expecting  an 
organized  outbreak  against  capital,  and  were  using  every 
means  to  be  prepared  to  meet  it.  On  the  afternoon  of  May 
2d,  the  “Black  Road”  was  the  scene  of  a  singular  spectacle — a 
company  of  anarchists  marching  along  with  the  American  flag 
reversed.  They  were  as  desperate  a  body  of  men  as  ever 
assembled  in  this  country,  and  were  speedily  reinforced  by 
large  numbers  of  the  strikers.  Halting  on  the  prairie  in 
front  of  the  McCormick  works,  August  Spies  made  a  highly 
inflammatory  speech,  which  resulted  in  an  assault  upon  the 
works,  the  destruction  of  considerable  property  and  the  injury 
of  a  number  of  non-union  workmen,  who  were  employed  there 
in  place  of  the  strikers.  Only  six  police  officers  were  on  duty 
to  oppose  a  mob  of  three  thousand  enraged  strikers  and 
anarchists.  A  call  for  assistance  brought  about  thirty 
officers,  who  charged  the  mob  and  succeeded  in  dispersing  it, 
but  not  until  one  striker  had  been  killed  by  a  bullet  from  a 
revolver,  and  several  seriously  injured.  This  encounter  was 
the  direct  cause  of  the  bloody  scenes  we  are  called  upon  to 
recount.  That  night  an  anarchist  circular,  printed  in  English 


THE  HAYMARKET  MASSACRE 


37i 


and  German,  was  widely  circulated.  The  German  version 
differed  somewhat  from  the  other,  being  a  little  more  pro¬ 
nounced,  and  was  addressed  to  well-known  anarchists  and 
socialists.  The  English  portion  was  as  follows : 

“REVENGE! 

“Revenge,  workingmen!  to  arms!  Your  masters  sent  out 
their  bloodhounds — the  police.  They  killed  six  of  your  broth¬ 
ers  at  McCormick’s  this  afternoon.  They  killed  the  poor 
wretches  because  they,  like  you,  had  the  courage  to  disobey 
the  supreme  will  of  your  bosses.  They  killed  them  because 
they  dared  to  ask  for  the  shortening  of  the  hours  of  toil. 
They  killed  them  to  show  you,  ‘free  American  citizens,’  that 
you  must  be  satisfied  and  contented  with  whatever  your  bosses 
condescend  to  allow  you,  or  you’ll  get  killed.  You  have  for 
years  endured  the  most  abject  humiliation;  you  have  for  years 
suffered  immeasurable  iniquities ;  you  have  worked  yourselves 
to  death;  you  have  endured  the  pangs  of  want  and  hunger; 
your  children  you  have  sacrificed  to  the  factory  lords — in  short, 
you  have  been  miserable,  obedient  slaves  all  these  years. 
Why?  To  satisfy  the  insatiable  greed,  to  fill  the  coffers  of  your 
lazy,  thieving  master.  When  you  ask  them  now  to  lessen  your 
burden,  he  sends  his  bloodhounds  out  to  shoot  you,  kill  you. 
If  you  are  men,  if  you  are  the  sons  of  your  grandsires  who 
have  shed  their  blood  to  free  you,  then  you  will  rise  in  your 
might,  Hercules,  and  destroy  the  hideous  monster  that  seeks 
to  destroy  you.  To  arms,  we  call  you !  To  arms ! 

“Your  Brothers.” 

In  addition  to  this  a  circular  was  distributed  calling  a 
meeting  of  workingmen  at  the  Haymarket,  on  the  night  of 
May  4th,  and  urging  men  to  go  there  armed.  What  is  known 
as  the  “Haymarket”  is  a  section  of  West  Randolph  street, 
about  a  fourth  of  a  mile  from  the  Chicago  River.  Here,  for 
two  blocks,  the  street  is  very  wide,  and  is  used  as  a  public 
market.  In  the  olden  time,  large  quantities  of  hay  were  sold 
there,  which  gave  the  place  its  name.  The  circular  was  as 
follows : 


372 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


ATTENTION  WORKINGMEN  ! 


— GREAT — 

MASS  MEETING 

To-night ,  at  y:jo  o'  clock, 

— AT  THE — 

Haymarket,  Randolph  St.,  Between  Desplaines  and  Halsted, 

Good  speakers  will  be  present  to  denounce  the  latest  atrocious  act  of  the 
police,  the  shooting  of  our  fellow-workmen  yesterday  afternoon. 

Workingmen,  Arm  Yourselves  and  Appear  in  Full  Force! 

THE  EXECUTIVE  COMMITTEE. 

After  a  portion  of  the  circular  had  been  printed,  Spies 
caused  the  words  “Workingmen,  arm  yourselves  and  appear  in 
full  force,”  to  be  stricken  out,  and  several  thousand  were 
printed  without  this  sentence.  Spies  said  upon  the  trial  that 
he  did  this  because  he  feared  it  might  be  the  means  of  keeping 
people  away.  In  the  Arbeit er  Zeitung  appeared  the  letter 
“Y,”  meaning  Ypsilon,  which  was  afterwards  shown  to  be  the 
agreed  signal  for  the  armed  anarchists  to  turn  out  in  force. 
In  the  “Letter  Box”  of  the  same  paper  appeared  the  word 
“Ruhe,”  which  conveyed  to  all  organized  anarchists  the  infor¬ 
mation  that  the  time  for  revolution  had  come. 

When  it  is  understood  that  for  months  past  these  two 
organs  of  the  anarchists  had  abounded  in  revolutionary 
articles,  denouncing  the  law  and  advocating  the  use  of  force, 
the  responsibility  of  the  men  who  wrote  and  circulated  such 
articles  seems,  to  the  mind  of  the  layman,  well  established. 

At  the  appointed  time  the  meeting,  destined  to  mark  an 
epoch  in  the  history  of  anarchy,  was  called  to  order.  It  was 
not  held  in  the  Haymarket  proper,  but  in  Desplaines  street, 
just  north  of  Randolph  Street.  A  wagon  had  been  pressed 
into  use  as  a  platform.  Not  much  more  than  a  hundred  yards 
south  of  this  wagon  was  located  the  Desplaines  street  police- 
station.  Here  a  large  force  of  police  officers  had  been  con¬ 
centrated,  the  authorities  fearing  a  serious  outbreak.  Spies 
was  the  first  speaker.  The  following  extract  is  from  a  short¬ 
hand  report  of  his  speech,  proved  at  the  trial  to  be  correct: 


THE  HAYMARKET  MASSACRE 


373 


“It  is  said  that  I  have  inspired  the  attack  on  McCormick’s. 
That  is  a  lie.  The  fight  is  going  on ;  now  is  the  chance  to 
strike  for  the  existence  of  the  oppressed  classes.  The  oppress¬ 
ors  want  us  to  be  content;  they  will  kill  us.  The  thought  of 
liberty  which  inspired  your  sires  to  fight  for  their  freedom 
ought  to  animate  you  to-day.  The  day  is  not  far  distant  when 
we  will  resort  to  hanging  these  men.  [Applause  and  cries  of 
‘Hang  them  now!’]  McCormick  is  the  man  who  created  the 
row  Monday,  and  he  must  be  held  responsible  for  the  murder 
of  our  brothers.  [Cries  of  ‘Hang  him!’]  Don’ t  make  any 
threats ;  they  are  of  no  avail ;  when  you  get  ready  to  do  some¬ 
thing,  do  it  and  don’t  make  any  threats  beforehand.’’ 

Parsons,  the  only  native-born  American  among  all  the 
prominent  actors  in  the  fearful  tragedy,  spoke  next.  From 
the  same  shorthand  report  the  following  is  taken : 

“It  behooves  you,  as  you  love  your  wife  and  children — if 
you  don’t  want  to  see  them  perish  with  hunger,  killed  or  cut 
down  like  dogs  on  the  street, — Americans,  in  the  interest  of 
your  liberty  and  your  independence,  to  arms!  arm  your¬ 
selves!’’ 

Samuel  Fielden  followed  in  quite  a  long  speech.  His  con¬ 
cluding  remarks,  from  the  same  reliable  report,  were  as 
follows : 

“The  law  makes  no  distinction.  A  million  men  own  all  the 
property  in  this  country.  The  law  has  no  use  for  the  other 
fifty-four  million.  [A  voice,  ‘Right  enough!’]  You  have 
nothing  more  to  do  with  the  law  except  to  lay  hands  on  it,  and 
throttle  it  until  it  makes  its  last  kick.  It  turns  your  brothers 
out  upon  the  wayside,  and  has  degraded  them  until  they  have 
lost  the  last  vestige  of  humanity,  and  they  are  mere  things 
and  animals.  Keep  your  eyes  upon  it!  Throttle  it!  Kill  it! 
Stab  it!  Do  everything  you  can  to  wound  it,  to  impede  its 
progress.  Remember,  before  trusting  them  to  do  anything 
for  you,  prepare  to  do  it  for  yourself.  Don’t  turn  over  your 
business  to  anybody  else.  No  man  deserves  anything  unless 
he  is  man  enough  to  make  an  effort  to  lift  himself  from 
oppression.  Is  it  not  a  fact  that  we  have  no  choice  as  to  our 
existence,  for  we  can’t  dictate  what  our  labor  is  worth?  He 


374 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


that  has  to  obey  the  will  of  any  is  a  slave.  Can  we  do  any¬ 
thing  except  by  the  strong  arm  of  resistance?  Socialists  are 
not  going  to  declare  war;  but  I  tell  you,  war  has  been  declared 
upon  us,  and  I  ask  you  to  get  hold  of  anything  that  will  help 
to  resist  the  onslaught  of  the  enemy  and  the  usurper.  The 
skirmish-lines  have  met.  People  have  been  shot.  Men, 
women  and  children  have  not  been  spared  by  the  capitalists 
and  minions  of  private  capital.  It  had  no  mercy,  so  ought 
you.  What  matters  it  whether  you  kill  yourselves  with  work 
to  get  a  little  relief,  or  die  on  the  battle-field  resisting  the 
enemy?  What  is  the  difference?  Any  animal,  however  loath¬ 
some,  will  resist  when  stepped  upon.  Are  men  less  than 
snails  and  worms?  I  have  some  resistance  in  me;  I  know  that 
you  have,  too.  You  have  been  robbed,  and  you  will  be  starved 
into  a  worse  condition.” 

When  the  anarchist  had  reached  this  point  in  his  ha¬ 
rangue,  Captain  William  Ward,  of  the  Desplaines  street 
station,  with  a  hundred  and  eighty  policemen  behind  him, 
appeared  upon  the  scene.  Halting  a  few  feet  from  the 
wagon,  Captain  Ward  said,  in  a  loud  voice:  “I  command  you, 
in  the  name  of  the  people  of  the  State  of  Illinois,  to  imme¬ 
diately  and  peaceably  disperse.” 

This  command,  made  in  strict  accordance  with  the  laws 
of  the  State,  was  not  accompanied  with  any  act  of  violence, 
nor  was  it  accompanied  with  any  threat,  unless  it  could  be 
implied,  from  the  ranks  of  the  blue-coated  conservators  of  the 
peace.  The  claim  was  made,  and  is  still  made,  that  the  attack 
which  followed  was  in  self-defense.  The  absurdity  of  this  is 
apparent.  In  the  judgment  of  the  authorities,  the  meeting 
was  a  menace  to  law  and  order,  and  they  were  justified  in 
dispersing  it. 

Fielden  replied:  “We  are  peaceable.”  Whether,  or  not 
these  words  were  a  signal  for  action,  may  never  be  known ; 
but  immediately  a  bomb  with  a  lighted  fuse  swept  through  the 
air  and  fell  in  the  midst  of  the  officers.  It  exploded  at  once, 
and  dealt  death  and  destruction;  sixty  being  wounded,  of 
whom  seven  subsequently  died.  For  an  instant  only,  the 
police  wavered ;  then,  closing  their  ranks,  they  poured  volley 


THE  HAYMARKET  MASSACRE 


375 


after  volley  from  their  ready  revolvers  into  the  ranks  of  the 
rioters,  many  of  whom  were  wounded  and  some  killed;  the 
exact  number  never  having  been  ascertained,  as  many  were 
helped  away  by  friends  and  their  cases  never  reported. 

This  terrible  denouement  of  a  long  series  of  threats  on  the 
part  of  organized  anarchy  threw  the  city  into  a  condition 
bordering  on  frenzy,  and  fairly  convulsed  the  entire  nation. 
The  Arbeiter  Zeitung  was  suppressed,  and  the  mayor  issued  a 
proclamation  commanding  the  people  not  to  assemble  in 
crowds.  A  systematic  search  of  anarchist  headquarters 
resulted  in  the  discovery  and  seizure  of  large  quantities  of 
arms  and  dynamite  bombs,  together  with  red  flags,  banners 
and  anarchistic  literature.  Eight  anarchist  leaders  were 
arrested  and  indicted  for  murder,  and  twenty-six  others  for 
conspiracy  and  treason.  Those  indicted  and  tried  for  murder 
were  August  Spies,  a  German  by  nationality,  editor  of  the 
Arbeiter  Zeitung,  and  one  of  the  leading  anarchist  agitators; 
A.  R.  Parsons,  an  American — brother  of  the  Confederate 
general,  Lew  Parsons — commander-at-large  of  the  anarchists, 
whose  wife,  an  octoroon,  was  also  a  violent  agitator;  Samuel 
Fielden,  English  by  nationality,  a  carpenter  by  trade,  and  a 
noted  agitator;  Oscar  Neebe,  German,  laborer  in  a  brewery 
and  circulator  of  the  Arbeiter;  Adolph  Fischer,  German,  com¬ 
positor  on  and  circulator  of  the  Arbeiter;  George  Engel,  Ger¬ 
man,  anarchist  agitator;  Michael  Schwab,  German,  associate 
editor  of  the  Arbeiter ,  and  Louis  Lingg,  German  and  profes¬ 
sional  anarchist. 

On  the  day  after  the  murder,  Rudolph  Schnaubelt  was 
arrested  by  the  city  detectives,  charged  with  complicity  in  the 
attack  upon  the  police.  The  extent  of  the  horrid  conspiracy 
was  not  at  that  time  appreciated,  or  even  dreamed  of,  and 
Schnaubelt,  answering  all  questions  in  a  satisfactory  manner, 
was  released  by  the  police  and  immediately  disappeared, 
and  was  never  re-arrested,  although  it  subsequently  appeared 
highly  probable  that  he  was  the  man  who  actually  threw  the 
fatal  bomb.  A.  R.  Parsons  also  disappeared,  but  when  the 
case  was  called  for  trial,  he  came  into  court  and  smilingly  gave 
himself  up. 


376 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


The  eight  anarchists  were  speedily  put  on  trial  before  Hon. 
Joseph  E.  Gary,  for  conspiracy  and  murder.  Spies,  Fielden, 
Schwab  and  Neebe  attempted  to  secure  separate  trials,  but 
.  this  was  refused  on  the  ground  that  they  were  indicted 
jointly,  for  a  conspiracy.  After  some  four  weeks  had  been 
spent  in  examining  talesmen,  a  jury  was  at  length  secured, 
and  the  real  trial  of  the  anarchists  began  by  the  taking  of  evi¬ 
dence  on  Friday,  July  16,  1886.  The  trial  occupied  some  five 
weeks,  and  was  strongly  contested  at  every  point,  both  the 
State  and  defense  being  represented  by  able  lawyers.  The 
verdict  of  the  jury  was  returned  on  the  morning  of  Friday,  the 
20th  day  of  August,  and  was  as  follows: 

“We,  the  jury,  find  the  defendants,  August  Spies,  Michael 
Schwab,  Samuel  Fielden,  Albert  R.  Parsons,  Adolph  Fischer, 
George  Engel  and  Louis  Lingg,  guilty  of  murder  in  manner 
and  form  as  charged  in  the  indictment,  and  fix  the  penalty  at 
death.  We  find  the  defendant  Oscar  W.  Neebe  guilty  of 
murder  in  manner  and  form  as  charged  in  the  indictment,  and 
fix  the  penalty  at  imprisonment  in  the  penitentiary  for  fifteen 
years.  ” 

To  go  into  this  trial  and  undertake  to  present  even  an 
outline  of  the  voluminous  testimony  would  far  transcend 
the  limits  that  can  be  assigned  to  this  case  in  the  present 
volume.  Some  of  the  anarchists  who  were  under  indict¬ 
ment  for  conspiracy  turned  State’s  evidence.  In  this  way 
the  terrible  significance  of  the  “Y”  and  “Ruhe”  printed 
in  the  Arbeiter  Zeitung ,  was  ascertained.  Gottfried  Wal¬ 
ler,  a  Swiss  cabinet-maker,  and  a  member  of  the  Lehr  und 
Wehr  Verein,  testified  that  this  society  was  made  up  of 
various  groups  of  armed  anarchists.  He  swore  that  the 
publication  of  the  letter  “Y”  meant  an  appointment  for  a 
meeting  of  the  armed  section  at  Grief’s  Hall.  At  this  meet¬ 
ing,  the  witness  acted  as  chairman.  About  eighty  anarchists 
were  present,  among  them  Engel  and  Fischer.  He  further 
testified  that  Engel  proceeded  to  unfold  a  plan  by  which,  in 
the  event  of  a  collision  occurring  between  the  strikers  and  the 
police,  the  word  “Ruhe’’  in  the  Arbeiter  Zeitung  should  be 
understood  as  the  signal  for  the  Lehr  and  Wehr  and  the 


THE  HAYMARKET  MASSACRE 


377 


Northwest  group  of  anarchists  to  assemble  in  the  northwestern 
part  of  the  city,  armed  and  ready  for  action.  The  plan  was 
to  then  proceed  to  storm  the. North  Avenue  police-station,  and, 
after  demolishing  that,  proceed  to  the  other  police-stations  of 
the  city,  which  were  likewise  to  be  destroyed.  Dynamite  was 
to  be  employed  in  the  work  of  destruction,  and  all  who  offered 
opposition  to  the  movement  for  the  promotion  of  anarchy 
were  to  be  shot  down.  As  a  part  of  the  plan,  and  without 
which  it  would  have  been  foredoomed  to  failure,  all  the  tele¬ 
graph  wires  were  to  be  cut,  those  communicating  with  the 
outside  world  as  well  as  those  connecting  the  different  portions 
of  the  city.  Engel  declared  that  this  plan  had  already  been 
adopted  by  the  Northwest  group.  It  was  expected  that,  in 
the  intense  disorder  that  would  ensue,  large  numbers  of  angry 
strikers  would  join  the  anarchists  and  a  revolution  be  effected 
in  the  city. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  the  meeting  at  the  Haymarket  on 
May  4th  was  arranged,  Fischer  being  intrusted  with  the  work 
of  preparing  and  circulating  the  necessary  handbills.  Waller 
was  corroborated  by  other  witnesses,  and  there  is  not  the 
slightest  doubt  but  what  the  dastardly  plan  he  recounted, 
which  meant  the  loss  of  thousands  of  lives  and  the  sacking 
and,  very  possibly,  burning  of  the  city,  had  been  deliberately 
planned  by  men  whose  watchword  was  “Death  to  the  Law.” 
In  the  meantime,  as  was  abundantly  proved,  the  anarchists 
had  for  some  time  been  employed  in  manufacturing  dynamite 
bombs  of  various  kinds,  and  were  all  heavily  armed.  Louis 
Lingg  was  the  most  active  in  the  manufacture  of  explosives, 
and  maintained  a  regular  factory  where,  in  connection  with 
several  others,  he  turned  them  out  in  large  numbers.  By 
direct  evidence,  all  the  defendants,  with  the  exception  of  Oscar 
Neebe,  were  connected  with  the  fearful  conspiracy.  Neebe 
distributed  the  circulars,  but  was  not  very  closely  connected, 
by  the  evidence,  with  the  transaction. 

Anarchy  is,  most  happily,  detested  and  abhorred  by  the 
American  people,  with  exceptions  so  rare  as  only  to  empha¬ 
size  the  rule.  Of  the  active  anarchists  in  this  country,  not  one 
in  fifty  is  an  American  by  birth.  It  is  entirely  natural  that 


3  78 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


the  outrageous  acts  of  these  men  should  meet  with  the  abso¬ 
lute  disapproval  of  all  law-abiding  citizens,  and  there  is  quite 
a  widely-disseminated  idea  that  the  anarchists  were  con¬ 
victed  as  a  matter  of  policy ;  that  the  law  was  strained  in  their 
case,  and  that  the  verdict  of  the  jury,  though  most  salutary  in 
its  effect,  was  hardly  warranted  by  the  law  and  the  evidence. 
This  notion  is  clearly  wrong.  In  a  very  able  and  quite  com¬ 
prehensive  article  by  Hon.  Joseph  E.  Gary,  the  judge  who 
presided  at  the  trial  of  the  anarchists,  published  in  the  Cen¬ 
tury  Magazine  for  April,  1893,  the  justice  of  their  conviction  is 
clearly  shown.  We  wish  every  American  could  read  it;  the 
popular  opinion  of  this  noted  trial  would  surely  be  changed  by 
the  operation.  The  concluding  paragraph  of  this  remarkable 
article  may  well  be  qiioted : 

“For  nearly  seven  years  the  clamor,  un contradicted,  has 
gone  round  the  world  that  the  anarchists  were  heroes  and 
martyrs,  victims  of  a  prejudice  and  fear.  Not  a  dozen  per¬ 
sons  alive  were  prepared  by  familiarity  with  the  details  of  their 
crime  and  trial,  and  present  knowledge  of  the  materials  from 
which  those  details  could  be  shown,  to  present  a  succinct 
account  of  them  to  the  public.  It  so  happened  that  my  posi¬ 
tion  was  such  that  from  me  that  account  would  probably 
attract  as  much  attention  as  it  would  from  any  other  source. 
Right-minded,  thoughtful  people,  who  recognize  the  necessity 
of  civilization,  of  the  existence  and  enforcement  of  laws  for  the 
protection  of  human  life,  and  who  yet  may  have  had  misgiv¬ 
ings  as  to  the  fate  of  the  anarchists,  will,  I  trust,  read  what  I 
have  written,  and  dismiss  those  misgivings,  convinced  that  in 
law  and  in  morals  the  anarchists  were  rightly  punished,  not 
for  opinions,  but  for  horrible  deeds.” 

The  remarks  of  the  distinguished  jurist  in  passing  sentence 
upon  the  eight  men,  while  thoughtful,  dignified  and  touching, 
are  so  far  different  from  those  usually  heard  upon  like  solemn 
occasions,  and  so  clearly  elucidate  the  position  of  the  court  as 
to  the  guilt  of  the  convicted  men  in  the  eyes  of  the  law,  that 
they  are  produced  here.  We  coknmend  them  to  the  careful 
consideration  of  every  man  who  wishes  to  see  upheld  and 
perpetuated  the  free  institutions  of  America. 


i 


THE  HAYMARKET  MASSACRE  379 

“I  am  quite  well  aware  that  what  you  have  said,  although 
addressed  to  me,  has  been  said  to  the  world,”  began  the 
judge,  “yet  nothing  has  been  said  which  weakens  the  force  of 
the  proof,  or  the  conclusions  therefrom  upon  which  the  verdict 
is  based.  You  are  all  men  of  intelligence,  and  know  that,  if 
the  verdict  stands,  it  must  be  executed.  The  reasons  why  it 
shall  stand  I  have  already  sufficiently  stated  in  deciding  the 
motion  for  a  new  trial.  I  am  sorry,  beyond  any  power  of 
expression,  for  your  unhappy  condition,  and  for  the  terrible 
events  that  have  brought  you  to  it.  I  shall  address  to  you 
neither  reproaches  nor  exhortations.  What  I  shall  say  will  be 
said  in  the  faint  hope  that  a  few  words  from  a  place  where  the 
people  of  the  State  of  Illinois  have  delegated  the  authority  to 
declare  the  penalty  of  a  violation  of  their  laws,  and  spoken  upon 
an  occasion  so  solemn  and  awful  as  this,  may  come  to  the 
knowledge  of,  and  be  heeded  by,  the  ignorant,  deluded,  and 
misguided  men  who  have  listened  to  your  counsels  and  fol¬ 
lowed  your  advice.  I  say  in  the  faint  hope;  for  if  men  are 
persuaded  that  because  of  business  differences,  whether  about 
labor  or  anything  else,  they  may  destroy  property,  and  assault 
and  beat  other  men,  and  kill  the  police,  if  they,  in  the  dis¬ 
charge  of  their  duty,  interfere  to  preserve  the  peace,  there  is 
little  ground  to  hope  that  they  will  listen  to  any  warning. 

“Not  the  least  among  the  hardships  of  the  peaceable, 
frugal  and  laborious  poor,  it  is  to  endure  the  tyranny  of  mobs, 
who  with  lawless  force  dictate  to  them,  under  penalty  of  peril 
to  limb  and  life,  where,  when  and  upon  what  terms  they  may 
earn  a  livelihood  for  themselves  and  their  families.  Any 
government  that  is  worthy  of  the  name  will  strenuously 
endeavor  to  secure  to  all  within  its  jurisdiction,  freedom  to 
follow  their  lawful  avocations  in  safety  for  their  property  and 
their  persons  while  obeying  the  law. 

“ And  the  law  is  common-sense. 

“It  holds  each  man  responsible  for  the  natural  and  prob¬ 
able  consequences  of  his  own  acts.  It  holds  that  whoever 
advises  murder  is  himself  guilty  of  the  murder  that  is  com¬ 
mitted  pursuant  to  his  advice;  and  if  men  band  together  for 
forcible  resistance  to  the  execution  of  the  law,  and  advise 


t 


380  MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 

murder  as  the  means  of  making  such  resistance  effectual, 
whether  such  advice  to  one  man  to  murder  another,  or  to  a 
numerous  class  to  murder  men  of  another  class,  all  who  are  so 
banded  together  are  guilty  of  any  murder  that  is  committed  in 
pursuance  of  such  advice. 

“The  people  of  this  country  love  their  institutions.  They 
love  their  homes.  They  love  their  property.  They  will 
never  consent  that  by  violence  and  murder  those  institutions 
shall  be  broken  down,  their  homes  despoiled,  and  their  prop¬ 
erty  destroyed.  And  the  people  are  strong  enough  to  protect 
and  sustain  their  institutions,  and  to  punish  all  offenders 
against  their  laws;  and  those  who  threaten  danger  to  civil 
society,  if  the  law  is  enforced,  are  leading  to  destruction  who¬ 
ever  may  attempt  to  execute  such  threats. 

“The  existing  order  of  society  can  be  changed  only  by  the 
will  of  the  majority. 

“Each  man  has  the  full  right  to  entertain,  and  advocate  by 
speech  and  print,  such  opinions  as  suit  himself,  and  the  great 
body  of  the  people  will  usually  care  little  what  he  says ;  but  if 
he  proposes  murder  as  a  means  of  enforcing  them,  he  puts  his 
own  life  at  stake ;  and  no  clamor  about  free  speech,  or  evils  to 
be  cured,  or  wrongs  to  be  redressed,  will  shield  him  from  the 
consequences  of  his  crime.  His  liberty  is  not  a  license  to 
destroy.  The  toleration  he  enjoys  he  must  extend  to  others, 
and  not  arrogantly  assume  that  the  great  majority  are  wrong, 
and  may  rightly  be  coerced  by  terror,  or  removed  by  dyna¬ 
mite. 

“It  only  remains  that  for  the  crime  you  have  committed, 
and  of  which  you  have  been  convicted,  after  a  trial  unexampled 
in  the  patience  with  which  an  outraged  people  have  extended 
to  you  every  protection  and  privilege  of  the  law  which  you 
derided  and  defied,  the  sentence  of  the  law  be  now  pro¬ 
nounced.  In  form  and  detail  that  sentence  will  appear  upon 
the  records  of  the  court.  In  substance  and  effect  it  is  that  the 
defendant  Neebe  be  imprisoned  in  the  State  penitentiary  at 
Joliet  at  hard  labor  for  the  term  of  fifteen  years;  and  that  each 
of  the  other  defendants,  between  the  hours  of  ten  o’clock  in 
the  forenoon  and  two  o’clock  in  the  afternoon  of  the  3d  day  of 


THE  HAYMARKET  MASSACRE  381 


December  next,  in  the  manner  provided  by  the  statute,  be 
hung  by  the  neck  until  he  is  dead.  ’  ’ 

Before  the  sentence  was  pronounced,  each  of  the  convicted 
men  addressed  the  court,  some  of  them  talking  at  great 
length.  The  speech  of  Parsons,  who,  at  his  own  request,  was 
the  last  to  address  the  court,  occupied  nine  hours,  and  the 
eight  defendants  consumed  three  entire  days.  All  of  them 
were  men  of  intelligence  and  some  of  them  possessed  rather 
remarkable  gifts  of  oratory.  Their  remarks  were  listened  to 
with  the  closest  attention,  thousands  being  unable  to  obtain 
admission  to  the  court-room.  These  speeches  now  form  a 
leading  portion  of  the  gospel  of  anarchy,  and  are  the  text¬ 
books  in  the  schools  where  men  are  taught  that  all  law  should 
be  abolished  and  mankind  started  on  a  retrograde  movement 
toward  barbarism.  The  most  extreme  and  violent  of  all  the 
condemned  men  was  Louis  Lingg.  His  speech  was  bitter, 
but  had  about  it  the  true  ring  of  anarchy,  and  wrought  almost 
to  frenzy  the  misguided  adherents  of  the  abolition  of  the 
reign  of  law.  We  quote  the  concluding  sentences  of  his 
impassioned  and  impudent  tirade : 

“You  smile.  You  perhaps  think  I  will  not  use  bombs  any 
more,  but  I  tell  you  I  die  gladly  upon  the  gallows  in  the  sure 
hope  that  hundreds  and  thousands  of  people  to  whom  I  have 
spoken  will  now  recognize  and  make  use  of  dynamite.  In  this 
hope  I  despise  you,  and  I  despise  your  laws.  Hang  me 
for  it.  ’’ 

No  efforts  were  spared  to  save  the  lives  of  the  condemned 
men.  An  appeal  was  taken  to  the  Supreme  Court  of  Illinois, 
where  the  judgment  of  the  Criminal  Court  was  sustained. 
The  opinion  of  the  Court,  prepared  by  Mr.  Justice  Benjamin 
D.  Magruder,  was  filed  September  14,  1887,  and  is  a  legal 
document  of  great  ability,  destined  to  become  a  much-quoted 
authority  in  similar  trials,  if  the  hydra-headed  monster, 
Anarchy,  again  displays  its  poisoned  fangs  in  America. 

The  Supreme  Court,  as  provided  by  the  statute,  fixed  a 
day  for  the  execution  of  the  seven  condemned  to  death,  nam¬ 
ing  November  11,  1887.  Before  that  time  the  Governor  of 
Illinois  commuted  the  sentence  of  Schwab  and  Fielden  to 


382 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


imprisonment  for  life.  On  November  ioth,  the  day  before  the 
execution,  Louis  Lingg  committed  suicide  in  his  cell  in  the 
county  jail.  He  carried  his  devotion  to  dynamite  to  the  end. 
He  managed  to  secure  a  small  stick  of  the  deadly  explosive,  or 
a  fulminating  cap,  it  was  never  certainly  known  which,  by 
means  of  which  he  blew  his  head  to  pieces.  The  others  were 
executed  pursuant  to  their  sentence.  There  was  intense 
excitement  at  the  time,  and  an  uprising  of  the  anarchists  was 
feared,  but  the  day  passed  without  any  further  outbreak 
occurring.  The  anarchists  had  encountered  the  law,  and  had 
not  found  it  to  their  liking. 

It  was  believed  at  the  time  when  the  sentences  of  Schwab 
and  Fielden  were  commuted  to  imprisonment  for  life,  that  they 
would  end  their  lives  in  prison.  But  the  law-supporting  citi¬ 
zens  of  Illinois  had  not  taken  into  account  the  possibilities  of 
elections.  There  are  comparatively  few  anarchists  in  the 
State,  but  there  are  large  numbers  of  organized  socialists  who 
ardently  desired  the  release  of  the  three  prisoners.  They 
represented  many  thousands  of  votes,  and  could  exert  a  great 
influence  on  elections.  On  June  26,  1893,  John  P.  Altgeld, 
Governor  of  the  State  of  Illinois,  granted  a  full  and  free  par¬ 
don  to  Fielden,  Schwab  and  Neebe,  the  latter  of  whom  was 
serving  a  term  of  fifteen  years. 

It  is  only  fair  to  state  that  a  strong  pressure  was  brought  to 
bear  upon  Governor  Altgeld,  many  prominent  citizens  having 
interested  themselves  in  behalf  of  the  imprisoned  anarchists. 
Had  the  chief  executive  confined  himself  to  pardoning  them 
there  would  have  been  comparatively  little  complaint.  It  was 
generally  believed  that  Neebe ’s  connection  with  the  awful 
tragedy  was  very  slight,  and  that  neither  Schwab  nor  Fielden 
were  as  guilty  as  those  who  suffered  death.  The  law  had  been 
amply  vindicated,  the  prisoners  had  learned  a  lesson  likely  to 
last  them  for  the  remainder  of  their  lives,  and  an  act  of 
clemency  would  tend  to  allay  bitter  feelings  and  conduce  to 
the  peace  and  quiet  of  the  State. 

But  the  Governor  was  not  satisfied  with  this  course.  He 
prepared  and  gave  out  for  publication  a  long  statement,  which 
amounted  for  the  most  part  to  an  argument  attempting  to 


THE  HAY  MARKET  MASSACRE 


3^3 


demonstrate  that  the  entire  eight  men  had  been  unjustly  con¬ 
victed.  I11  this  behalf  he  analyzed  the  evidence  with  great 
minuteness  and  undoubted  ingenuity.  Not  satisfied  with  an 
attempt  to  discredit  the  juries  and  judicial  methods  of  the 
State — and  such  a  paper  from  the  chief  executive  could  not  but 
have  a  marked  effect  in  that  direction — he  made  a  bitter  per¬ 
sonal  attack  upon  Hon.  Joseph  E.  Gary,  the  venerable  judge 
who  presided  at  the  trial.  Probably  no  man  in  Illinois  is  more 
widely  known  or  more  generally  respected  as  a  citizen  of 
unblemished  character  and  a  jurist  of  great  ability  and  scru¬ 
pulous  honesty,  than  Judge  Gary.  In  consequence  of  this, 
Governor  Altgeld  was  severely  criticised,  by  prominent  mem¬ 
bers  of  his  own  party  as  well  as  by  the  opposition.  Certain  it 
is  that  his  action  has  had  a  bad  effect  upon  the  State  and  the 
nation,  viewed  from  the  standpoint — which,  most  happily,  still 
prevails  in  this  country — that  American  laws  and  institutions 
must  be  sustained. 


CHAPTER  XXII 


THE  PALMER  POISONING  CASE 

The  Old  Bailey,  which  still  stands  in  London  opposite  grim 
Newgate,  with  its  prison  record  of  six  centuries,  has  been  the 
scene  of  many  historic  trials,  its  record  in  this  regard  being, 
probably,  unapproached  by  any  structure  now  existing  in 
the  world.  A  long  line  of  murderers,  highwaymen  and 
felons  of  all  kinds  and  descriptions,  have  there  been 
arraigned,  tried  and  sent  away  to  ignominious  deaths. 
It  may  well  be  doubted,  however,  whether  the  Old  Bailey 
ever  witnessed  a  trial  that  excited  greater  interest  among 
the  people  of  Great  Britain  than  that  of  William  Palmer, 
held  within  its  precincts  before  the  Central  Criminal  Court, 
in  May,  1856. 

It  was  not  the  atrocity  of  the  crime,  but  the  difficulty  of 
establishing  it,  the  defense  made,  and  the  clash  of  expert  wit¬ 
nesses,  that  aroused  the  most  intense  interest  among  all 
classes  of  society,  vulgar  and  polite,  ignorant  and  scientific. 
A  large  portion  of  the  leading  medical  and  chemical  experts 
of  England,  Scotland  and  Ireland  testified,  either  for  the 
Crown  or  prisoner,  in  the  Palmer  trial,  and  it  has  since  been 
recognized  as  the  leading  case  where  murder  was  consum¬ 
mated  through  the  employment  of  strychnine. 

The  murder  was  committed  at  the  town  of  Rugeley,  in 
Staffordshire,  England.  The  community  was  aroused  to  a 
high  pitch  of  indignation,  the  evident  prejudice  against  the 
prisoner  being  very  great.  Accordingly,  through  his  counsel, 
the  prisoner  applied  for  a  change  of  venue,  expressing  a  desire 
to  be  tried  before  the  Central  Criminal  Court  in  London. 
This  went  beyond  the  power  of  the  court  to  grant,  but  per¬ 
mission  was  given  by  a  special  act  of  Parliament,  and  the  pris- 

384 


TIIE  PALMER  POISONING  CASE  385 


oner  was  removed  to  Newgate  to  stand  trial  for  his  life  in  the 
Old  Bailey. 

William  Palmer  began  life  as  a  chemist  and  druggist  in  the 
town  of  Rugeley,  county  Stafford,  in  the  central  portion  of 
England.  In  this  employment  he  acquired  quite  an  intimate 
knowledge  of  drugs  and  chemicals,  and  later  became  a  medical 
practitioner.  He  soon  wearied  of  his  profession,  however, 
and  betook  himself  to  the  turf,  where  he  bet  largely  on  the 
races,  owning  some  race-horses  himself.  In  the  meantime, 
he  sold  his  chemist’s  shop  to  an  assistant  named  Thirlby.  At 
the  time  of  the  murder,  Palmer,  who  was  about  thirty-one 
years  of  age,  had  dissipated  the  little  fortune  he  had  once  pos¬ 
sessed,  and  was  in  great  financial  embarrassment. 

John  Parsons  Cook,  for  whose  murder  Palmer  was  sent  to 
the  scaffold,  was  a  man  of  a  somewhat  similar  history.  When 
quite  young — he  was  but  eight  and  twenty  at  the  time  of  his 
death — he  began  the  study  of  the  law,  but,  falling  into  some 
property,  about  ^15,000,  he  abandoned  the  idea  of  becoming  a 
practitioner,  and,  like  Palmer,  adopted  the  race-course  as  a 
means  of  obtaining  a  livelihood.  Similar  in  their  antecedents, 
history,  education  and  tastes,  these  two  young  men  met  some 
three  or  four  years  before  the  tragedy,  and  became  intimate, 
almost  inseparable,  friends.  Palmer  was  possessed  of  the 
stronger  will,  the  greater  intellect,  and  speedily  acquired  a 
dominant  influence  over  his  friend. 

That  Palmer  was  a  rascal,  entitled  to  a  high  place  in  the 
world  of  sharpers,  is  evident  from  his  financial  operations,  in 
which  forgery  and  fraud  held  a  prominent  place.  Some 
account  of  these  transactions  is  necessary  to  an  under¬ 
standing  of  the  motives  that  led  him  to  kill  his  friend  and 
associate ;  besides,  they  cut  an  important  figure  in  his 
celebrated  trial. 

Difficulties  are  liable  to  arise  in  any  calling  in  life,  but  are 
more  likely  to  confront  those  who  rely  upon  gambling  for  a 
livelihood.  Horse-racing  proved  disastrous  to  both  these 
young  men.  As  early  as  1853  Palmer  had  practically 
exhausted  his  resources.  For  a  time  he  seems  to  have 
secured  assistance  from  his  mother,  who  was  a  woman  of 


386 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


some  wealth,  but  in  1853  he  began  to  raise  money  on  bills, 
which  he  discounted  at  ruinous  rates  with  different  brokers, 
doing  the  most  of  it  through  a  London  solicitor  named  Pratt. 
Finally,  he  began  to  discount  bills  bearing  the  forged  signa¬ 
ture  of  his  mother,  Sarah  Palmer. 

His  relations  with  Pratt  appear  to  have  begun  in  the  latter 
part  of  1854,  at  which  time  he  owed  large  sums  on  bills,  a 
considerable  portion  of  which  was  due  and  sadly  pressing  him. 
In  September  of  that  year  his  wife,  whose  life  was  insured  in 
his  favor  for  ^£13,000,  about  $65,000,  died,  and  with  this 
money,  through  the  instrumentality  of  Pratt,  he  paid  off  some 
of  the  most  annoying  of  his  debts. 

In  1854  Palmer  effected  an  insurance  for  ^13,000  in  the 
name  of  his  brother,  the  policy  being  assigned  to  him.  Upon 
this  policy  as  security,  he  discounted,  through  Mr.  Pratt,  bills 
aggregating  ^12,500,  all  of  which  bore  the  forged  signa¬ 
ture  of  his  mother.  In  1855  Palmer’s  brother  died.  The 
rogue  had  doubtless  expected  to  pay  off  his  liabilities  from  the 
proceeds  of  the  insurance  policy,  but  the  company  declined  to 
pay  it,  setting  up  fraud  as  a  defense.  Whether  Palmer  killed 
his  brother,  as  was  freely  intimated  after  his  arrest  for  the 
murder  of  Cook,  will  never  be  known,  but  the  suspicion  was 
heightened  by  the  circumstance  that,  after  failing  to  collect 
the  policy,  he  took  steps  to  insure  the  life  of  an  employe,  a 
man  named  Bates,  for  ^25,000.  The  company  declined  to 
take  so  large  a  risk,  and  the  application  was  reduced  to 
^10,000.  The  office  now  made  a  searching  inquiry,  learned 
that  Bates  was  a  person  possessed  of  neither  wealth  nor  stand¬ 
ing  in  society,  and  declined  to  have  any  dealings  with  him. 
In  this  negotiation  Cook  took  a  prominent  part.  In  Septem¬ 
ber,  1855,  Palmer  had  outstanding  discounted  bills  aggre¬ 
gating  ^11,500.  Several  of  them  were  overdue,  and  all  of 
them  bore  the  forged  signature  of  Sarah  Palmer. 

On  November  6,  1855,  Pratt  caused  two  writs  for  ^4,000 
each  to  issue.  One  of  these  was  against  Palmer,  and  the  other 
against  his  mother.  In  notifying  Palmer  of  the  event,  Pratt 
informed  him  that  he  would  hold  the  writs  for  a  few  days, 
thus  giving  him  an  opportunity  to  renew  them  by  paying 


THE  PALMER  POISONING  CASE  387 


something  on  them,  and  also  to  arrange  for  another  bill  that 
would  become  due  in  a  few  days. 

Ruin,  disgrace  and  penal  servitude  thus  stared  Palmer  in 
the  face.  Cook  had  a  race-horse  named  Polestar  entered  for 
the  Shrewsbury  races,  to  be  run  on  November  13th.  The 
horse  was  a  good  one  and  Cook  had  backed  it  quite  heavily. 
On  that  day  both  Palmer  and  Cook  were  at  Shrewsbury,  the 
former  having  borrowed  ^25  to  pay  the  expenses  of  the 
journey,  which  shows  that  he  was  otherwise  without  money. 
Polestar  won  the  race  and  Cook’s  winnings,  including  the 
purse,  amounted  to  over  ^2,000.  Of  this  he  collected  over 
jQ 700  upon  the  course,  the  remainder  being  payable  in  London 
a  week  later. 

In  his  desperate  condition,  Palmer  seems  to  have  decided 
to  take  the  life  of  his  friend,  since  the  money  Cook  had,  and 
that  which  was  due  him,  would  enable  him  to  make  some  kind 
of  terms  with  Pratt.  On  the  night  of  November  14th,  Cook, 
who  occupied  a  room  next  to  Palmer’s  at  the  Raven  Hotel  in 
Shrewsbury,  invited  a  Mr.  Fisher,  a  sporting  man  who  some¬ 
times  acted  as  his  agent  in  collecting  bets  at  Tattersall’s  in 
London,  and  who,  with  another  sporting  man  named  Herring, 
occupied  an  adjoining  room,  to  have  a  glass  of  brandy  and 
water  in  his  apartment. 

Entering  the  room,  Fisher  found  Cook  and  Palmer  sitting 
at  a  table,  Cook  having  a  tumbler  of  brandy  and  water  before 
him.  Cook  invited  Palmer  to  drink  another  glass,  but  the 
latter  declined  unless  Cook  would  first  finish  his  glass.  This 
Cook  promptly  did,  and  immediately  exclaimed:  “Good  God! 
there  is  something  in  it  that  burns  my  throat.” 

A  trifle  was  left  in  the  glass,  and  Palmer  at  once  drained  it, 
declaring  that  there  was  nothing  wrong  with  it.  He  then 
offered  the  glass  to  Fisher,  and  asked  him  to  taste  it,  but 
none  of  the  liquor  remained. 

In  a  few  minutes  Cook  was  taken  suddenly  ill,  vomiting 
violently  and  with  great  frequency.  A  medical  man  was  sent 
for  and  the  vomiting  continued  for  some  two  hours.  When 
first  taken  sick  Cook,  who  seems  to  have]  been  suspicious  of 
Palmer,  gave  his  money,  amounting  to  over  £700  in  notes,  to 


3S8 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


Fisher,  which  the  latter  returned  to  him  the  following  day, 
Cook  being  then  much  better.  On  that  day  ahorse  of  Palmer’s 
called  Chicken  lost  in  a  race,  leaving  the  unfortunate  man  in 
a  still  more  deplorable  financial  condition. 

On  the  night  when  Cook  became  so  suddenly  and  violently 
ill  after  drinking  the  brandy  and  water,  and  just  before  that 
occurrence,  a  woman  named  Mrs.  Brooks,  who  kept  a  register 
for  jockeys  and  secured  them  employment,  called  to  see 
Palmer  with  reference  to  hiring  him  a  jockey  to  ride  his  horse, 
Chicken,  the  following  day.  As  she  entered  the  lobby,  out  of 
which  the  rooms  of  Cook  and  Palmer  opened,  she  saw  the 
latter  holding  a  tumbler  up  against  the  gas-light  and  curiously 
scrutinizing  its  contents.  Then  he  entered  his  own  room, 
from  which  he  soon  emerged,  still  carrying  the  glass,  and 
passed  into  the  apartment  occupied  by  Cook. 

The  poison  administered  to  Cook  by  Palmer  at  the  Raven 
was  undoubtedly  antimony,  the  theory  of  the  Crown  being 
that  the  murderer  was  preparing  to  safely  kill  his  victim  with 
the  strychnine  by  first  administering  antimony,  which  is  the 
active  ingredient  of  tartar  emetic  and  produces  vomiting.  The 
analysis  of  Cook’s  vital  organs  after  his  death  showed  the 
undoubted  presence  of  antimony,  and  none  had  been  adminis¬ 
tered  by  the  physicians  during  his  sickness. 

On  Thursday,  November  15th,  after  ten  o’clock  at  night, 
the  two  sporting  men  reached  Rugeley,  Cook  going  to  a  hotel 
known  as  the  Talbot  Arms,  Palmer  to  his  own  house, 
which  was  directly  across  the  street.  Cook  announced  that  he 
had  been  very  ill  at  Shrewsbury,  but  was  nearly  well  again. 
The  next  day  he  went  out  and  dined  with  Palmer,  returned  to 
the  hotel  in  a  state  of  perfect  sobriety  about  ten  o’clock  and 
went  to  bed.  The  next  morning  Palmer  called  early  and 
gave  Cook  some  coffee,  after  drinking  which  he  was  taken 
violently  ill,  vomiting  exactly  as  he  had  at  Shrewsbury.  Dur¬ 
ing  the  next  two  days,  Saturday  and  Sunday,  Palmer  was 
almost  constantly  with  Cook,  everything  that  he  ate  or  drank 
passing  through  his  hands. 

About  noon  on  Saturday,  Palmer  went  to  his  house,  where 
he  caused  a  basin  of  broth  to  be  brought  from  the  Albion,  an 


THE  PALMER  POISONING  CASE  389 


inn  of  Rugeley.  Having  heated  it  in  the  kitchen,  he  gave  it  to 
a  woman  and  told  her  to  take  it  across  the  street  to  Cook. 
The  latter  swallowed  a  little  of  it,  but  it  immediately  made  him 
sick  and  was  carried  downstairs.  Coming  in  a  little  later, 
Palmer  declared  that  the  patient  must  take  the  broth,  and 
caused  it  to  be  brought  up  again.  At  Palmer’s  command 
Cook  swallowed  a  little,  which  almost  immediately  produced  a 
violent  fit  of  vomiting.  It  afterwards  appeared  that  a  woman 
named  Elizabeth  Mills,  a  servant  in  the  hotel,  thinking  the 
broth  looked  very  nice,  had  drank  two  tablespoons  of  it  when 
first  sent  down  from  the  sick  man’s  room.  As  a  result,  she 
became  very  ill,  and  was  compelled  to  remain  in  bed  all  the 
afternoon,  vomiting  much  of  the  time. 

On  Saturday  afternoon  Dr.  Bamford,  of  Rugeley,  was 
called  in.  Palmer  had  informed  him  that  the  patient  was 
suffering  from  a  bilious  attack  and  had  been  taking  too  much 
wine.  Dr.  Bamford  found  not  the  slightest  indication  of 
biliousness,  while  Cook,  in  the  presence  of  Palmer,  stated 
that  he  had  only  taken  two  glasses  of  wine  on  the  preceding 
evening.  Later  in  the  day,  and  during  the  evening,  Palmer 
administered  coffee  and  arrowroot  to  the  sick  man,  which 
brought  on  violent  attacks  of  vomiting. 

On  Sunday  Palmer  brought  Bamford  again,  who  found  the 
vomiting  still  continuing,  with  nothing  to  indicate  the  cause, 
there  being  not  the  slightest  indication  of  bile,  the  pulse  being 
about  normal,  and  respiration  quite  regular.  On  Monday 
morning  Palmer  brought  a  cup  of  coffee  to  his  sick  friend, 
which  immediately  brought  on  a  fit  of  vomiting.  After  that 
Palmer  took  a  train  for  London,  and  did  not  return  until 
night.  During  his  absence  Mr.  Cook’s  condition  decidedly 
improved,  the  vomiting  ceased,  and  he  announced  himself  as 
much  better.  This  was  no  wonder,  since  there  was  no  one  at 
Rugeley  to  administer  irritating  antimony  during  the  absence 
of  the  poisoner. 

But  it  was  not  motives  of  humanity  that  took  William 
Palmer  down  to  London.  He  was  obliged  to  delay  his 
fiendish  work,  but  had  no  notion  of  abandoning  it.  John 
Carsons  Cook  had  something  more  than  ^1,000  coming  to 


390 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


him  in  London,  and  Monday  was  settling  day  at  Tattersall’s. 
But  Palmer  did  not  call  at  the  counting-rooms  of  the  great 
sporting  house ;  he  was  in  default  on  their  books,  and  did  not 
dare  to  present  himself.  Instead,  he  called  on  Cook’s  agent, 
Mr.  Fisher,  and  requested  him  to  make  the  collections,  telling 
him  that  Cook  had  agreed  to  let  him  have  the  money.  With 
the  cash  thus  fraudulently  secured,  Palmer  was  able  to  satisfy 
Pratt  and  another  man  to  whom  he  owed  a  bill  and  gain  a 
little  delay,  promising  more  money  in  a  few  days. 

Monday  night  Palmer  returned  to  Rugeley  and  proceeded 
to  call  upon  a  man  named  Newton,  the  assistant  to  a  surgeon 
named  Salt,  from  whom  he  secured  three  grains  of  strychnine. 
Newton  thought  nothing  of  this  at  the  time,  since  strychnine 
was  sometimes,  though  rarely,  used  in  medicine,  and  he  knew 
Palmer  to  be  a  medical  man.  That  same  evening  Dr.  Barn- 
ford  called  at  the  Talbot  Arms  and  left  some  pills  for  Cook, 
which  were  given  to  Palmer.  The  latter  administered  some 
pills  to  the  sick  man — doubtless  some  that  he  had  made  him¬ 
self,  employing  strychnine  as  one  of  the  principal  ingredients 
— and  left  him  about  eleven  o’clock  in  a  very  comfortable  con¬ 
dition. 

Suddenly,  about  midnight,  the  women  in  the  lower  part  of 
the  house  were  aroused  by  the  most  fearful  screams  and  excla¬ 
mations  of  pain  proceeding  from  Mr.  Cook’s  room.  Flying 
thither,  they  found  the  unfortunate  man  suffering  the  most 
intense  agony.  He  was  screaming,  beating  the  bed  and  roll¬ 
ing  wildly  about,  while  his  eyes  seemed  almost  starting  from 
his  head.  His  arms  were  rubbed  at  his  request  and  Palmer, 
who  had  gone  to  his  own  house,  was  quickly  sent  for.  The 
latter  told  Cook  that  he  would  soon  be  better,  and  gave  him 
an  opiate  and  a  couple  of  pills.  The  former  was  quickly 
rejected  by  the  stomach,  but  the  latter  were  not.  After  this 
the  pain  subsided  somewhat  and  the  patient  became  more 
tranquil. 

A  grain  of  strychnine  is  usually  a  fatal  dose  for  a  human 
being.  Whether  Cook  had  vomited  some  of  the  pills  adminis¬ 
tered  by  his  professed  friend  will  never  be  known,  but  he  still 
lived.  Presumably  he  had  used  the  three  grains  procured 


THE  PALMER  POISONING  CASE 


3  91 


from  Newton,  for  about  noon  on  Tuesday  he  repaired  to  the 
shop  of  a  Rugeley  druggist  named  Hawkings,  a  man  with 
whom  he  had  had  no  dealings  for  two  years,  and  asked  for 
two  drachms  of  prussic  acid.  Whether  he  had  any  intention 
of  using  this  fearful  poison  is,  of  course,  unknown.  While  the 
clerk  was  putting  this  up  for  him,  Newton,  the  young  man 
from  whom  he  had  secured  the  three  grains  of  strychnine,  came 
into  the  shop.  Palmer  at  once  took  him  by  the  arm  and  led 
him  into  the  street,  where  he  talked  with  him  about  an  incon¬ 
sequential  matter  until  another  party  came  up  and  engaged 
Newton  in  conversation,  when  he  reentered  the  shop  and 
called  for  six  grains  of  strychnine,  and  a  quantity  of  Batley’s 
liquor  of  opium.  With  his  two  purchases  he  left  the  place. 

Mr.  Cook  was  entitled  to  receive  the  sum  of  ^350,  the 
stake  money  won  by  his  horse  Polestar  at  Shrewsbury,  and  on 
this  Tuesday  Palmer  took  steps  to  collect  it  by  means  of  a 
check  payable  to  himself  and  purporting  to  be  signed  by  Cook. 

This  check  was  not  paid,  the  stake  money  not  having  been 
collected.  He  procured  a  man  named  Cheshire  to  write  the 
body  of  this  check,  giving  the  following  remarkable  reason 
therefor:  “Poor  Cook  is  too  ill  to  draw  the  check  himself, 
and  Messrs.  Wetherby  might  know  my  handwriting.” 

Mr.  Cook  was  in  the  habit  of  spending  much  of  his  leisure 
time  with  a  Mr.  Jones,  a  medical  practitioner  of  Lutterworth, 
and  on  the  day  he  went  down  to  London  Palmer  wrote  Mr. 

Jones  a  letter  telling  him  that  Cook  was  sick  with  a  bilious 
attack,  and  asking  him  to  come  and  see  him.  Mr.  Jones 
arrived  on  Tuesday,  and  at  once  remarked  that  there  were 
no  symptoms  of  biliousness.  “You  should  have  seen  him  • 

before,”  cried  Palmer. 

On  Tuesday  Palmer  administered  coffee  and  broth  to  the 
patient,  with  the  customary  results.  That  night  the  three 
medical  men,  Bamford,  Jones  and  Palmer,  were  together  in 
Cook’s  room,  when  the  latter  exclaimed:  “Palmer,  I’ll  have 
more  medicine  to-night;  no  more  pills.’’ 

With  this  the  doctors  left  the  room  together,  and  decided  to 
tell  Cook  that  a  different  kind  of  pills  from  the  ones  he  had 
taken  the  preceding  night  would  be  prepared  for  him,  and 


392 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


that  they  would  prove  decidedly  beneficial.  Palmer  went 
with  Dr.  Bamford  to  his  surgery  and  saw  him  make  up  the 
pills,  which  he  was  to  take  back  to  the  hotel.  The  task  com¬ 
pleted,  Palmer  asked  the  doctor  to  write  the  directions  upon 
the  box.  This  struck  Bamford  as  a  strange  request,  coming 
as  it  did  from  a  medical  man  who  was  to  himself  administer 
the  medicine,  but  he  complied,  and  wrote  upon  the  box:  “Pills 
to  be  taken  at  bed-time.  ’  ’ 

Three-quarters  of  an  hour  elapsed  between  the  time  when 
Palmer  left  Bamford’ s  surgery  and  when  he  reached  the  Tal¬ 
bot  Arms.  As  soon  as  he  came  he  administered  two  of  the 
pills  to  the  sick  man,  despite  his  objections,  at  the  same  time 
calling  the  attention  of  Dr.  Jones  to  the  writing  on  the  box, 
remarking  that  it  was  extremely  good  for  a  man  of  eighty 
years.  This  struck  Dr.  Jones  as  peculiar,  since  he  had  never 
met  Dr.  Bamford  until  that  day  and  was  not  interested  in  the 
subject  of  his  handwriting.  Beyond  a  doubt,  the  remark  was 
made  to  emphasize  the  fact  that  the  pills,  which  he  hoped 
would  end  the  life  of  the  man  he  called  his  friend,  had  been 
put  up  by  Dr.  Bamford. 

Dr.  Jones  went  downstairs,  and  had  some  supper,  after 
which  he  went  to  bed.  According  to  his  testimony  on  the 
trial,  Cook  was  much  better  when  he  left  him  that  night  than 
he  had  found  him  in  the  morning.  A  few  minutes  after 
retiring  he  heard  Cook  calling  loudly  for  the  doctor,  declaring 
that  he  was  in  the  same  condition  he  had  been  in  on  the 
previous  night.  Jones  found  the  patient  suffering  intense 
pain,  gasping  for  breath  and  screaming  violently-  His  body 
was  convulsed,  and  his  neck  began  to  stiffen.  Palmer  was 
summoned  from  his  house,  and  came  so  quickly  as  to  almost 
give  the  lie  to  his  statement  that  he  had  been  in  bed.  Palmer 
brought  some  pills,  which  he  told  Dr.  Jones  were  ammonia, 
and  these  Cook  swallowed,  though  he  failed  to  retain  them. 
He  wished  to  be  raised  up,  but  this  was  found  to  be  impos¬ 
sible,  his  whole  body  being  so  stiffened  and  bowed  from  the 
terrible  cramps  from  which  he  was  suffering.  Then  he  asked 
to  be  turned  over.  This  was  done,  and  he  seemed  to  become 
easier,  and  after  a  few  minutes  quietly  expired. 


THE  PALMER  POISONING  CASE 


393 


The  murderer’s  presence  of  mind  did  not  desert  him.  He 
asked  Jones  to  go  and  call  the  female  servants.  They 
recommended  two  women  to  lay  out  the  remains,  and  when 
these  came  a  few  minutes  later,  they  saw  Palmer  searching 
under  the  dead  man’s  pillow  and  under  the  bolster.  They  also 
saw  him  search  the  pockets  of  Mr.  Cook’s  coat.  When  Cook 
came  to  Rugeley  he  was  known  to  have  had  upon  his  person 
over  ^700  in  notes,  but  none  of  this  was  afterwards  found,  nor 
could  his  betting-book  be  discovered.  Beyond  a  doubt  the 
prisoner  took  these,  together  with  a  number  of  letters. 

That  William  Palmer  was  a  man  possessed  of  considerable 
executive  ability  and  capable  of  exerting  great  influence  over 
those  with  whom  he  came  in  contact,  will  scarcely  be  doubted 
by  those  who  have  read  this  brief  account  of  his  dealings  with 
John  Parsons  Cook.  From  brokers,  betting  men,  druggists 
and  others,  he  secured  favors  and  concessions,  while  he  walked 
through  the  Talbot  Arms  at  Rugeley  as  if  he  were  its  licensed 
landlord.  Palmer  was  an  audacious  man,  and  his  very 
audacity  saved  him,  for  a  long  time,  from  actual  arrest,  if  not 
from  suspicion.  Two  or  three  instances  illustrating  this 
power  of  the  poisoner  may  be  presented  as  forming  a  neces¬ 
sary  part  of  the  narrative. 

On  the  Sunday  following  Mr.  Cook’s  death,  Palmer  went 
to  Dr.  Bamford  and  asked  for  a  certificate  as  to  the  cause  of 
his  demise.  “Why  do  you  ask  that  of  me?’’  replied  the 
doctor.  “He  was  your  patient. ’’  “I  would  rather  you  gave 
the  certificate,”  answered  Palmer,  and  after  a  little  further 
talk  Bamford  consented  to  do  this,  and  actually  wrote  out  and 
delivered  to  Palmer  a  document  giving  apoplexy  as  the  cause 
of  John  Parson  Cook’s  death,  though  he  must  have  well 
known,  despite  the  infirmities  of  age,  that  such  was  not  the 
case. 

The  young  drug  clerk,  Charles  Newton,  appears  to  have 
been  under  the  influence  of  Palmer.  He  proved  a  most 
important  witness  for  the  Crown,  but  not  until  the  day 
before  the  opening  of  the  trial  did  he  make  known  to  the 
authorities  the  fact  that  Palmer  had  secured  three  grains  of 
strychnine  from  him.  On  the  day  when  the  poisoner 


394  MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 

obtained  the  certificate  of  death  Newton  saw  him  in  his 
house,  and  Palmer  asked  him  what  dose  of  strychnine  would 
kill  a  dog;  to  which  Newton  replied  that  a  grain  would.  The 
anxious  murderer,  who  evidently  wished  to  fortify  his  own 
opinion  with  that  of  another,  then  asked  whether  it  could  be 
found  in  the  stomach  after  death,  and  what  would  be  the 
appearance  of  the  stomach.  Newton  replied  that  he  thought 
no  strychnine  would  be  found  and  that  there  would  be  no 
inflammation.  In  response  to  this  statement  of  opinion, 
Palmer  expressed  decided  pleasure,  and  snapped  his  fingers. 

At  the  post-mortem,  a  number  of  medical  men,  including 
Palmer,  were  present,  and  the  latter  made  an  ineffectual  effort 
to  carry  away  the  sealed  jar  containing  the  dead  man’s 
stomach,  after  making  various  suggestions  as  to  the  diseases 
from  which  Cook  had  long  been  suffering,  and  which  must 
have  led  to  his  death.  The  conduct  of  the  poisoner  had  been 
such  as  to  cause  him  to  fall  under  suspicion,  though  no  steps 
were  taken  to  secure  his  arrest.  It  seems  certain,  from 
memoranda  found  in  some  of  his  medical  books,  and  for  other 
reasons,  that  Palmer  had  made  a  close  study  of  the  effect  of 
strychnine  on  the  human  system,  and  that  he  believed  that  he 
had  administered  the  poison  so  skilfully  that  none  of  it  would 
be  found  in  the  stomach  or  other  organs  of  his  victim.  At 
the  inquest,  before  any  charge  had  been  made  against  him  by 
any  one,  he  exclaimed;  “We  shall  not  hang  yet.” 

After  the  inquest  the  viscera  was  sent  down  to  London  for 
chemical  analysis,  and  the  murderer  was  naturally  exceedingly 
anxious  to  learn  in  advance  of  the  inquest  the  results  obtained 
by  the  examining  chemists.  To  accomplish  this  he  called 
upon  Samuel  Cheshire,  the  man  who  had  written  the  check 
purporting  to  have  been  signed  by  Cook,  while  the  latter  was 
sick.  Cheshire  was,  and  for  eight  years  had  been,  the  post¬ 
master  at  Rugeley,  and  Palmer  induced  him  to  open  a  letter 
written  by  Dr.  Taylor,  who  had  charge  of  the  analysis  for  the 
Crown,  to  Mr.  Gardiner,  a  solicitor.  Cheshire  opened  the 
letter,  and  read  a  portion  of  it  to  Palmer,  announcing  that  the 
chemists  had  found  no  trace  of  strychnine  in  the  viscera  sub¬ 
mitted  to  them.  For  this  crime  Cheshire  was  indicted  and 


THE  PALMER  POISONING  CASE  395 


found  guilty.  He  was  brought  from  prison  to  testify  against 
Palmer  upon  the  latter’s  trial. 

A  Mr.  Stephens,  CoQk’s  stepfather,  appears  to  have  been 
the  first  one  to  entertain  suspicion  against  Palmer.  He  came 
to  Rugeley  immediately  after  his  stepson’s  death,  and  was 
greatly  surprised  that  the  dead  man’s  betting-book  had  not 
been  found.  Directly  after  Cook’s  death,  Palmer  made  the 
claim  that  he  was  indebted  to  him  in  the  sum  of  ^4,000,  the 
proceeds  of  bills  that  had  been  discounted,  and  presented 
Cheshire  with  a  statement,  purporting  to  bear  the  murdered 
man’s  signature,  attesting  such  to  be  the  fact.  This  signature 
Palmer  endeavored  to  get  Cheshire  to  attest  by  affixing  his 
own  name  to  the  document.  To  this  the  postmaster,  who 
was  not  wholly  depraved,  though  by  no  means  an  upright 
man,  exclaimed:  “Good  God!  the  man  is  dead!  I  should  not 
like  to  attest  the  signature  of  a  man  who  is  dead.  If  such  a 
transaction  should  come  out  and  I  should  have  to  give  evi¬ 
dence  of  it,  I  should  not  like  the  position.’’ 

Receiving  this  reply,  Palmer  announced  that  it  was  a 
matter  of  small  consequence,  since  the  signature  was  all 
right,  and  took  the  paper  away. 

As  a  result  of  the  inquest,  which  was  not  concluded  until 
December  5th,  Palmer  was  taken  into  custody.  Before  that 
time  he  had  paid  Pratt  two  sums  on  account,  of  ^£100  each, 
but  another  party,  to  whom  he  owed  over-due  bills,  had  caused 
him  to  be  arrested  for  the  debt,  and  had  also  proceeded  against 
his  mother  on  her  supposed  endorsement,  which  brought  to 
light  the  poisoner’s  long  list  of  forgeries. 

In  January,  1856,  the  body  of  Cook  was  exhumed  and  an 
examination  made  of  the  spinal  cord.  At  that  time  the  most 
unnatural  rigidity  of  the  lower  limbs  and  muscles,  which  had 
been  apparent  at  and  before  death,  continued,  the  feet  and 
hands  being  positively  distorted.  It  may  be  mentioned  that 
the  women  who  laid  out  the  body  had  found  it  necessary  to 
bind  the  arms  to  the  sides  of  the  body  with  tape.  These 
facts  told  heavily  against  the  defense  set  up  by  the  prisoner. 

The  trial  of  William  Palmer,  which  began  in  the  Old 
Bailey  on  May  14,  1856,  and  continued  for  two  weeks — an 


3  96 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


■unusual  time  for  a  murder  trial  in  England — was  one  of  the 
most  memorable  in  the  history  of  Great  Britain.  Lord  Camp¬ 
bell  presided,  Mr.  Justice  Cress  well  and  Mr.  Baron  Alderson 
sitting  with  him,  en  banc.  For  the  Crown,  the  attorney-gen¬ 
eral  appeared  in  person,  assisted  by  Mr.  James,  Q.  C.,  Mr. 
Bodkin,  Mr.  Welsby  and  Mr.  Huddleson.  Mr.  Serjeant  Shee, 
one  of  the  most  eminent  lawyers  of  the  English  bar, 
appeared  for  Palmer,  and  was  ably  assisted  by  Mr.  Grove, 
Q.  C.,  Mr.  Gray,  and  Mr.  Kinneally. 

The  defense  was  that  Mr.  Cook  had  died  of  tetanus,  the 
symptoms  of  which  are  decidedly  similar  to  those  of  poisoning 
by  strychnine.  It  is  impossible  to  enter  at  length  into  this 
matter,  yet  it  is  necessary,  even  for  a  slight  discussion  of  it, 
to  say  something  of  the  nature  of  strychnine. 

Strychnine  is  a  product  from  the  seeds  of  Strychnos  Nux 
Vomica,  or  poison  nut,  which  come  from  the  East  Indies.  It 
acts  immediately  and  powerfully  upon  the  nerves  and  muscles 
of  the  human  body,  and  almost  all  forms  of  animal  life.  The 
attorne)T  general,  one  of  the  most  learned  and  eminent 
Englishmen  of  his  time,  spoke  as  follows  of  this  fearful 
poison,  and  his  position  was  sustained  by  a  large  number  of 
medical  experts: 

“Now,  the  way  in  which,  acting  on  the  voluntary  muscles, 
strychnine  is  fatal  to  life  is  this:  It  produces  the  most  intense 
excitement  of  all  these  muscles,  violent  convulsions  take 
place,  spasms  which  affect  the  whole  muscles  of  the  body; 
these,  after  a  series  of  convulsive  throes,  end  in  rigidity — all 
the  muscles  become,  after  fearful  cramps,  fixed,  and  especially 
the  respiratory,  within  which  the  lungs  have  their  play,  are 
fixed  with  rigidity.  By  that  means  respiration  is  prevented 
and  death  necessarily  ensues.  The  symptoms  are  known  to 
medical  men  under  the  term  of  tetanus,  that  is  to  say,  con¬ 
vulsive  motions  of  the  muscles.  Under  that  form  of  tetanus 
you  have  the  utmost  rigidity  produced — convulsions  followed 

* 

by  rigidity,  the  legs  distended,  the  feet  curved  out  of  their  nat¬ 
ural  position,  the  muscles  of  the  chest  fixed,  the  muscles  of  the 
back,  which  hold  the  head  in  its  erect  position,  forced  back  by 
the  intensity  of  their  excited  retention,  the  head  is  thrown 


THE  PALMER  POISONING  CASE  397 


back  and  the  body  assumes  the  form  of  a  bow,  resting  on  the 
back  of  the  head  and  the  heels.  That  is  the  form  from  which 
death  arises  from  strychnine. 

“It  is,  at  the  same  time,  right  to  say  that  tetanus,  produc¬ 
ing  death,  arises  from  other  causes;  but  there  are  character¬ 
istic  differences  which,  I  believe,  prevent  the  possibility  of  a 
mistake  to  those  who  are  connected  with  this  department  of 
science.  There  is  what  is  called  tromatic  tetanus,  from  the 
Greek  word  “tromos,”  signifying  a  wound.  You  have  often 
heard  of  lockjaw  arising  from  a  cut,  or  the  ulceration  of  some 
part  of  the  body.  There  is  also  what  is  called  idiopathic 
tetanus,  which,  as  arising  from  disease,  generally  from  sudden 
chill,  produces  this  state  of  rigor  of  the  muscular  system ;  but 
there  is  the  most  marked  difference  between  them.” 

The  defense  upon  which  Mr.  Serjeant  Shee  principally 
relied  was  that  John  Parsons  Cook  had  died  a  perfectly  natural 
death,  of  idiopathic  tetanus.  An  attempt  was  made  to  con¬ 
vince  the  jury  that  the  symptoms  developed  by  Mr.  Cook  just 
before  his  death,  and  the  night  preceding  his  demise,  were 
those  to  be  expected  in  a  case  where  death  had  resulted  from 
tetanus  from  disease. 

Expert  witnesses,  summoned  to  testify  in  a  great  trial,  sel¬ 
dom  disappoint  the  parties  responsible  for  their  attendance. 
In  one  respect  this  might  well  be  expected,  since  the  views  of 
the  witness  are  always  obtained  before  he  is  brought  before 
the  jury.  But  the  expert  witness  always  goes  beyond  this 
point  and  exerts  himself  to  sustain  the  position  of  the  party 
who  has  given  him  an  opportunity  to  show  his  knowledge  in 
court.  Without  being  necessarily  dishonest,  he  parades  those 
points  favorable  to  his  side  of  the  case,  and  suppresses  or  avoids 
those  calculated  to  make  to  the  interests  of  the  opposition.  In 
the  author’s  observation  expert  testimony  can  always  be  pro¬ 
duced  to  establish  any  theory  not  absolutely  ridiculous  and 
self-condemning  on  its  face. 

Renowned  experts  met  and  clashed  in  this  memorable  case. 
For  the  Crown  the  following  well-known  medical  men  and 
chemists  were  sworn:  Thomas  Blizzard  Curling,  Dr.  Robert 
Todd,  Henry  Daniel,  Samuel  Solly,  Henry  Lee,  Dr.  Robert 


398 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


Corbett,  Dr.  James  Patterson,  Dr.  Alfred  Taylor,  Dr.  George 
Owen  Rees,  William  Thomas  Erande,  Prof.  Robert  Chris- 
tison,  and  Dr.  John  Jackson.  The  defense  introduced  as 
experts  Thomas  Nunneley,  William  Herepath,  Julian  E.  D. 
Rogers,  Dr.  Henry  Letheby,  Robert  Edward  Gay,  John 
Brown  Ross,  Rivers  Maratill,  Dr.  Francis  Wrightson,  Richard 
Partridge,  John  Gay,  Dr.  William  McDonald,  Dr.  John  Nathan 
Bainbridge,  Edward  Austin  Steady,  Dr.  George  Robinson, 
Dr.  Benjamin  Ward  Richardson,  and  Oliver  Pemberton. 

These  long  lists  of  men,  including  many  of  the  most 
illustrious  physicians  and  chemists  of  Great  Britain,  and  their 
conflicting  testimony  aroused  the  metropolis,  the  entire 
nation,  to  a  pitch  of  almost  unprecedented  excitement.  Dr. 
Alfred  Taylor,  a  physician  of  great  note  and  the  author  of  a 
standard  work  on  poisons,  had  made  an  analysis  of  the 
stomach,  intestines,  liver,  spleen  and  kidneys  of  John  Parsons 
Cook.  In  this  he  was  assisted  by  Dr.  George  Owen  Rees,  and 
the  work  was  submitted  to  Prof.  William  Thomas  Brande,  a 
very  eminent  London  chemist. 

These  experts  found  quite  a  quantity  of  antimony,  but, 
although  employing  every  test  known  to  chemical  science,  not 
a  trace  of  strychnine,  a  point  that  was  used  with  great  force 
by  the  defense.  It  was  the  general  theory  of  the  Crown  that 
the  strychnine  that  caused  the  death  could  not  be  recovered 
and  identified  as  such,  but  only  such  strychnine  as  remained  in 
the  body,  or  rather,  the  excess  above  that  required  to  produce 
death.  In  accordance  with  this  theory  the  circumstance  that 
no  strychnine  was  found  in  the  remains  of  Mr.  Cook  did  not 
warrant  the  conclusion  that  he  had  not  died  of  strychnine 
poisoning,  but  rather  that  it  had  been  skilfully  administered. 
Messrs.  Taylor  and  Rees  had  killed  four  rabbits  with  small 
doses  of  strychnine,  and,  in  three  out  of  the  four,  had  been 
unable  to  discover  a  trace  of  strychnine  by  the  most  pains¬ 
taking  chemical  analysis.  This  position  was  fortified  by  the 
testimony  of  several  other  of  the  Crown’s  witnesses,  though 
combated  by  the  defense. 

In  the  past  forty  years  considerable  advance  has  been 
made  in  the  science  of  analytical  chemistry,  but  it  is  still 


THE  PALMER  POISONING  CASE  399 


impossible  to  absolutely  determine  by  chemical  analysis 
whether  a  person  has  died  of  strychnine  poisoning,  though  the 
chances  of  establishing  the  fact  are  much  greater  than 
formerly.  What  is  known  as  a  physiological  test  is  at  present 
employed  to  detect  the  presence  of  strychnine  in  a  corpse 
where  analysis  has  failed  to  indicate  its  presence.  A  portion 
of  the  liver,  kidneys  and  other  parts  of  the  body  most  likely  to 
retain  the  poison,  is  reduced  to  a  fluid  state  and  a  little  of  it 
injected  into  the  circulation  of  a  frog.  The  nerves  and 
muscles  of  frogs  are  peculiarly  sensitive  and  the  smallest  pos¬ 
sible  portion  of  strychnine  will  induce  twitchings  and  spas-  * 
modic  contractions  of  the  muscles.  At  present,  as  in  1856,  the 
thing  chiefly  relied  upon  to  prove  death  from  strychnine 
poisoning  is  the  physical  conditions  under  which  the  subject 
died. 

It  was  this  that  sent  William  Palmer  to  the  scaffold. 
Tetanus  as  the  result  of  disease  is  continuous,  while  John 
Parsons  Cook  recovered  from  one  severe  attack  to  die  the  fol¬ 
lowing  night  of  another.  Idiopathic  tetanus,  of  which  the 
defense  claimed  Mr.  Cook  died,  takes  some  time,  generally 
several  days,  to  develop,  and  none  of  the  expert  witnesses  for 
the  defense  knew  of  a  case  where  death  had  ensued  within  the 
space  of  a  few  hours.  Mr.  Cook  died  within  an  hour  from  the 
time  when  he  was  the  second  time  seized  with  muscular  con¬ 
vulsions.  Again,  he  had  been  able  to  swallow,  shortly  before 
death,  a  thing  almost  impossible  in  natural  tetanus,  while  the 
distorted  hands  and  feet,  the  bowed  body  and  the  general 
extreme  rigidity  of  the  muscles  spoke  loudly  of  strychnine. 

Many  witnesses  for  the  defense  were  quite  positive  that 
Mr.  Cook  had  died  a  natural  death,  but  common  sense,  leaving 
science  out  of  the  question,  was  against  them.  All  the  organs 
of  his  body  were  found  in  a  healthy  condition,  there  being 
absolutely  nothing  upon  which  to  predicate  death  except  the 
administration  of  a  subtle  vegetable  poison,  which  had  been  so 
completely  absorbed  as  to  defy  science  to  prove  its  presence 
in  the  dead  body. 

William  Palmer  did  not  undertake  his  work  blindly,  but 
exercised  an  almost  devilish  ingenuity.  The  administration 


400 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


of  antimony — doubtless  in  the  form  of  tartar  emetic — was  for  a 
two-fold  purpose.  In  the  first  place,  it  produced  a  violent 
illness  which,  the  cause  being  unknown,  was  well  calculated  to 
disarm  suspicion  when  it  terminated  fatally.  Secondly,  the 
weakening  effect  of  continual  vomiting  and  consequent  neglect 
of  food  could  not  but  render  the  body  of  the  unfortunate  man 
more  susceptible  to  the  effects  of  strychnine,  thus  permitting 
Palmer  to  take  his  life  with  comparatively  small  doses,  which 
lessened — as  the  sequel  showed — the  chance  of  the  examining 
chemists  finding  any  of  the  poison  in  his  remains. 

But  for  the  numerous  detailed  incriminating  actions  of 
Palmer,  it  is  doubtful  if  he  could  have  ever  been  convicted ; 
as  it  was,  it  took  the  jury  only  a  little  more  than  two  hours  to 
settle  his  fate.  Palmer  refused  to  say  anything  in  his  own 
defense,  and  was,  on  May  27,  1856,  formally  sentenced  to 
death  by  Lord  Campbell.  For  the  sake  of  the  example  upon 
the  community,  he  was  removed  from  Newgate  to  the  county 
of  Stafford,  and  was  there  executed  a  few  days  later. 

As  already  stated,  the  trial  of  William  Palmer  is  still  the 
leading  case  in  criminal  jurisprudence  where  the  charge  of 
strychnine  poisoning  is  set  up.  In  all  such  cases,  while  the 
finding  of  strychnine  in  the  remains  is  very  important,  the 
circumstances  attending  the  death  are  all  paramount,  since  no 
known  disease  produces  symptoms  that  correspond  exactly  to 
those  induced  by  the  product  of  the  deadly  nux  vomica. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

H.  H.  HOLMES,  THE  M  U  LT  I -M  U  R  D  E  R  E  R 

As  a  rule,  theories  are  constructed  with  reference  to  exist¬ 
ing  cases,  which  are  often  distorted,  frequently  misstated,  to 
•  match  the  vagaries  or  extravagant  ideas  of  the  author  or  lec¬ 
turer.  But  true  theories,  well  founded  and  logically  worked  out, 
seldom  long  lack  confirmation.  Many  scientists,  astronomers 
in  particular,  have  lived  to  see  their  abstract  theories  amply 
demonstrated  by  indisputable  facts.  The  theory  of  homicidal 
impulse  advanced,  or  rather  suggested,  by  the  author,  is 
founded  upon  many  well-defined  cases,  which  seem  to  quite 
clearly  establish  its  truth.  Since  the  bulk  of  the  present 
volume  was  written,  two  instances  have  arisen  in  this  country, 
or  rather  have  been  brought  to  a  termination,  which  seem  to 
go  far  toward  demonstrating  the  validity  of  the  position  that 
there  is  such  a  thing  as  an  inherent  disposition  to  take  human 
life.  One  of  these,  the  Hayward  case,  is  set  forth  at  length  in 
another  chapter.  The  other,  which  is  much  more  striking, 
supporting  the  suggestion  of  homicidal  impulse  as  pointedly  as 
though  it  were  a  bit  of  fiction  written  for  that  one  purpose, 
forms  the  subject-matter  of  the  present  chapter. 

The  case  of  Herman  Webster  Mudgett,  better  known  under 
his  principal  alias  of  H.  H.  Holmes,  is  almost  unique  in  the 
annals  of  crime.  The  present  volume,  which  deals  with  the 
murderous  work  of  the  most  diabolical  villains  who  have,  in 
different  ages  of  the  world,  disgraced  the  name  of  man,  con¬ 
tains  no  instance  at  all  comparable  with  that  of  this  wretch, 
who  took  a  fiendish  delight  in  causing  the  cruel  death  of  his 
fellow  creatures,  and  died  believing  that  he  was  fast  assuming 
the  physical  form  of  his  master,  the  devil.  According  to  his 
own  confession,  Holmes  (the  wretch  will  be  so  designated  in 

401 


402 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


the  present  narrative)  not  only  murdered  men,  women  and 
innocent  children,  from  mingled  motives  of  cupidity  and  the 
gratification  of  his  murderous  impulse,  but,  failing  more 
lucrative  employment  in  the  domain  of  crime,  imitated  Burke 
and  Hare,  and  killed  people  that  he  might  sell  their  bodies  for 
purposes  of  dissection.  Aside  from  being  a  multi-murderer, 
Holmes  committed  enough  other  crimes  to  render  his  name 
infamous.  He  was  a  bigamist,  horse  thief,  forger,  defrauder  of 
life  insurance  companies  and  general  all-around  swindler.  And 
yet  for  years  this  human  monstrosity  came  in  almost  daily 
contact  with  bright,  discerning  people,  with  whom  he  usually 
passed  as  an  honest  man  and  a  good  fellow.  The  entire  realm 
of  fiction  contains  little  that  is  more  extravagant,  cruel  and 
morbid  than  the  actual  life  of  H.  H.  Holmes. 

It  was  through  the  famous  Pitezel  case  that  the  manifold 
murders  of  Holmes  were  discovered  and  made  public.  Many 
of  them  were  ferreted  out  by  detectives  and  clearly  estab¬ 
lished,  but  the  crimes  of  the  wretch  far  outnumbered  the 
wildest  estimates  of  those  who  had  formed  the  best  ideas  of 
his  character,  and  believed  him  capable  of  committing  any 
conceivable  act  of  cruelty.  The  full  enormity  of  his  offenses 
he  published  to  the  world  in  a  confession,  written  by  him  in 
prison  about  a  month  before  his  execution.  This  confession 
was  published  in  a  large  number  of  newspapers  in  different 
parts  of  the  country,  and  brought  him  a  considerable  sum  of 
money,  $10,000,  it  is  said.  In  this  statement  Holmes  confessed 
to  having  committed  twenty-seven  different  murders.  He 
delighted  in  taking  human  life  and  watching  the  suffering  of 
his  victims,  as  clearly  appears  from  his  own  statements.  Next 
to  this  he  seems  to  have  derived  his  greatest  pleasure  from 
devising  and  giving  utterance  to  ingeniously  constructed,  plau¬ 
sible  falsehoods. 

In  the  domain  of  fabrication  Herman  Webster  Mudgett,  alias 
H.  H.  Holmes,  is  entitled  to  a  very  high  place.  With  him 
lying  assumed  the  form  of  an  art,  and,  until  his  real  character 
was  laid  bare,  his  manifold  lies  readily  passed  current,  and  to 
this,  in  a  large  measure  at  least,  his  wonderful  success  in  so 
long  concealing  his  crimes  must  be  attributed.  After  his 


HOLMES,  THE  M  U  L  T  I -M  U  R  D  E  R  E  R  4oj 


arrest  he  told  many  different  stories,  modifying  them  as  the 
discovery  of  the  facts  by  the  authorities  compelled  him  to  do. 
At  first  the  detectives  placed  considerable  reliance  upon  his 
confessions  and  believed  that  he  had  “made  a  clean  breast”  of 
everything;  but  as  time  passed  his  ability  as  an  artistic  liar 
began  to  dawn  upon  them,  and  they  came  to  distrust  and 
finally  disbelieve  everything  he  said.  It  has  been  shown  that 
he  told  some  falsehoods  in  the  confession  he  furnished  the 
press  while  awaiting  execution,  yet  it  is  believed  that  it  was 
true  in  the  main.  His  object  in  exaggerating  doubtless  was 
to  enhance  the  value  of  the  manuscript,  and  at  the  same  time 
feed  his  inordinate  thirst  for  notoriety.  The  Pitezel  case  thus 
forms  the  logical  starting-point  for  an  account  of  the  criminal 
career  of  this  wretch,  who  may  well  be  classed  among  the 
most  cruel  and  murderous  of  all  who  have  disgraced  the  image 
of  the  Divine  Being  in  which  they  were  created. 

Were  it  not  for  the  circumstance  that  this  remarkable  case 
is  of  but  recent  origin,  and  many  of  the  facts  fresh  in  the 
public  mind,  it  would  almost  be  necessary  to  explain  that  the 
present  narrative  is  not  fiction,  but  fact ;  not  the  invention  of 
a  second  Edgar  A.  Poe,  but  the  true  story  of  the  wicked  deeds 
of  a  man  fertile  in  invention  and  resources,  possessed  of 
nerves  of  steel  and  a  heart  as  hard  and  cold  as  a  stone.  The 
life  of  this  man  served  but  one  good  purpose;  it  furnishes  a 
frightful  example  of  the  depths  to  which  thirst  for  gold  and 
blood — cupidity  and  the  homicidal  impulse — will  sometimes 
reduce  those  who  yield  themselves  up  to  the  spirit  of  evil. 

“b.  f.  perry,  patents  bought  and  sold.” 

In  the  latter  part  of  August,  1894,  this  legend,  painted  on 
a  sheet  of  muslin,  and  displayed  in  front  of  the  windows  of  a 
house  known  as  No.  1316  Callowhill  Street,  Philadelphia, 
caught  the  eye  of  a  passer-by.  This  was  a  carpenter  and 
inventor  named  Eugene  Smith.  He  had  recently  patented  a 
saw-set,  which  had  so  far  proved  buried  capital.  Here  was 
his  opportunity,  and  he  lost  no  time  in  entering  the  house,  a 
red  brick  structure  of  two  and  a  half  stories,  and  broaching  his 
business  to  the  proprietor,  a  tall,  raw-boned  man.  Perry 
wished  to  see  a  model  of  the  device,  and  Smith  called  with  it 


404 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


the  following  day.  Learning  that  Smith  was  a  carpenter, 
Perry  employed  him  to  construct  a  rough  counter  in  the  store. 
While  at  work  on  this  a  man  entered,  made  a  sign  to  the 
proprietor  and  passed  upstairs,  closely  followed  by  the  latter. 
This  visitor,  who  was  evidently  entirely  familiar  with  the 
premises,  Smith  afterwards  identified  as  H.  H.  Holmes,  his 
testimony  forming  one  of  the  strongest  links  in  the  chain  which 
dragged  the  inhuman  scoundrel  to  the  scaffold. 

But  Smith  was  destined  to  cut  a  more  important  figure  in 
the  tragedy  that  was  then  taking  form.  His  work  done,  the 
carpenter  departed,  but  returned  on  the  afternoon  of  Mon¬ 
day,  September  3d.  He  came  then  in  his  capacity  of  inventor, 
to  ascertain  what  was  being  done  about  the  sale  of  his  patent. 
He  found  the  door  unlocked  and  the  store  deserted.  Thinking 
Perry  would  soon  return,  he  seated  himself  and  waited  with 
the  best  patience  he  could  command.  After  a  time  he  grew 
weary  and  quitted  the  place,  but  not  until  he  had  hallooed  for 
the  proprietor,  without  receiving  any  response.  Early  the 
next  morning  he  returned,  and  found  the  place  exactly  as  he 
had  left  it;  the  door  was  unlocked,  and  the  apartment,  includ¬ 
ing  some  articles  of  clothing  that  he  had  particularly  noticed 
on  the  preceding  day,  exactly  as  he  had  left  it.  He  called 
aloud  the  name  Perry  several  times,  and,  receiving  no 
response,  passed  through  the  store  and  ascended  the  stairs. 
In  a  back  room,  lying  on  the  floor,  with  the  face  badly  dis¬ 
figured,  was  the  decomposing  body  of  a  man.  Losing  no 
time,  he  repaired  to  the  nearest  police-station,  and  gave  the 
alarm.  Two  officers  at  once  hurried  to  the  scene,  calling  on 
their  way  for  a  physician,  Dr.  Scott. 

They  found  the  body  in  a  very  natural  and  peaceful 
posture.  It  was  rigid  and  straight,  the  right  arm  resting 
across  the  breast,  and  this  notwithstanding  the  circumstance 
that  the  body  was  badly  burned.  The  left  arm  lay  close  to  the 
body,  and  the  inner  portion  of  it  was  not  burned.  The  mus¬ 
tache  on  one  side  was  burned  off.  The  clothing  was  the  same, 
to  all  appearances,  that  Smith  had  seen  Perry  wear,  and  there 
was  little  doubt  but  what  the  dead  man  was  he.  On  either 
side  of  the  body  lay  fragments  of  a  large  broken  bottle,  a  pipe 


HOLMES,  THE  MULTI-MURDERER  405 


filled  with  tobacco,  and  a  burnt  match.  There  were  evi¬ 
dences  that  an  explosion  had  taken  place,  though  pieces  of  the 
glass  were  found  within  the  bottle,  as  would  not  have  been 
the  case  if  it  had  burst.  The  stomach  showed  alcoholic  irrita¬ 
tion,  and  emitted  an  odor  of  chloroform.  The  coroner’s  phy¬ 
sician  testified  that  death  had  been  caused  by  chloroform 
poisoning,  though  the  verdict  of  the  jury  left  it  an  open  ques¬ 
tion  whether  death  had  resulted  from  poison  or  inhalation  of 
the  flame.  The  case  presented  a  veritable  mystery  on  its 
face,  and  the  police  were  divided  as  to  whether  or  not  the  man 
had  committed  suicide,  no  one  suggesting  that  he  had  met 
with  foul  play.  The  body  of  Perry,  as  the  coroner’s  jury  had 
decided  the  dead  man  to  be,  lay  unclaimed  in  the  morgue  for 
eleven  days,  and  was  then  buried  in  the  potter’s  field. 

Before  the  burial,  however,  the  officers  of  the  Fidelity 
Mutual  Life  Association  and  the  coroner  received  letters  from 
a  young  attorney  of  St.  Louis,  named  Jeptha  D.  Howe,  stating 
that  he  represented  the  wife  of  one  Benjamin  F.  Pitezel,  whose 
life  was  insured  in  said  company  for  $10,000.  He  stated  that 
the  man  found  dead  at  No.  1316  Callowhill  street,  was  really 
Pitezel,  who  had  been  known  as  B.  F.  Perry.  Fie  concluded 
by  saying  that  he  would  soon  be  in  Philadelphia  with  wit¬ 
nesses  to  identify  the  body  and  claim  the  insurance.  Ac¬ 
cording  to  the  company’s  books  such  a  policy  had  been  issued 
in  Chicago,  and  an  inquiry  was  at  once  forwarded  to  that  office. 

At  this  juncture  Holmes  appears  upon  the  scene.  The 
cashier  of  the  Chicago  office,  knowing  that  Holmes  was 
acquainted  with  Pitezel,  went  to  Wilmette,  a  suburb  of 
Chicago,  to  interview  him.  He  was  absent,  but  his  wife 
offered  to  write  him  about  the  matter.  It  may  be  mentioned 
here  that  Holmes  had  two  other  wives  living,  and  was  not 
legally  married  to  the  one  domiciled  in  Wilmette,  although 
she  was  ignorant  of  the  fact,  and  of  his  villainy'  as  well.  Mr. 
Cass,  the  cashier  of  the  Chicago  office,  gave  her  a  clipping 
from  a  Chicago  paper,  which  stated  that  the  body  had  been 
found  in  Chicago.  On  September  17th  Holmes  wrote  Cass  a 
letter  from  Indianapolis,  which  was  simply  wonderful  in  its 
ingenuity.  He  stated  that  he  knew  Pitezel  quite  well,  and 


406 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


gave  an  accurate  description  of  him.  He  offered  to  come  to 
Chicago,  to  identify  the  body,  provided  his  expenses  were 
paid,  as  he  was  not  in  good  circumstances.  Two  days  later  he 
wrote  Mr.  Cass  a  second  letter,  in  which  he  stated  that  he  had 
learned  from  the  Philadelphia  papers  that  the  body  had  been 
found  in  that  city.  He  said  he  was  going  to  Baltimore,  and 
would  call  at  the  company’s  office  in  Philadelphia  in  a  few 
days. 

September  20th  he  called  upon  Mr.  Fouse,  president  of  the 
insurance  company  in  Philadelphia,  and  was  informed  of  the 
verdict.  The  following  day  Jeptha  D.  Howe  called  upon  Mr. 
Fouse  and  presented  a  letter  of  introduction  from  R.  J.  Lin¬ 
den,  superintendent  of  police  of  Philadelphia,  which  he  had 
secured  on  the  strength  of  a  letter  from  a  St.  Louis  party.  He 
also  produced  a  power  of  attorney  from  Mrs.  Pitezel.  He 
explained  that  some  financial  complications  had  induced 
Pitezel  to  pass  under  an  assumed  name.  In  the  afternoon  of 
the  same  day  he  brought  Alice,  Pitezel ’s  daughter,  a  girl  of 
about  fifteen,  to  the  office,  explaining  that  Mrs.  Pitezel  was 
sick  and  unable  to  come.  She  corroborated  the  description 
already  given  by  Holmes  and  Howe.  In  answer  to  a  ques¬ 
tion,  Howe  stated  that  he  did  not  know  Holmes.  As  a  matter 
of  fact  this  was  false,  Holmes  having  secured  the  services  of 
Howe,  who  seems  to  have  been  in  the  conspiracy  to  defraud 
the  company.  At  this  most  opportune  moment  Holmes  came 
into  the  office  and  was  introduced  to  Howe  as  a  gentleman 
who  had  known  Pitezel  for  years.  The  two  shook  hands  and 
addressed  each  other  as  if  meeting  for  the  first  time. 

Mr.  Fouse  then  suggested  that,  as  the  body  was  to  be 
disinterred,  marks  of  identification  should  be  agreed  upon. 
This  was  done,  a  cut  on  the  leg,  a  wart  on  the  neck,  a  bruised 
thumb-nail,  and  certain  peculiarities  of  the  teeth  being  sug¬ 
gested  and  noted  down.  The  following  day,  September  2 2d, 
the  body  was  disinterred  and  identified,  Holmes  pointing  out 
the  distinctive  marks.  After  a  consultation,  the  officers  of  the 
company  agreed  that  the  identification  was  complete,  and  on 
the  Monday  following  paid  over  to  Howe  $9,715.85,  the 
amount  of  the  policy  less  the  expenses  of  identification.  The 


HOLMES,  THE  M  U  L  T  I  -  M  U  R  D  E  R  E  R  407 


company  paid  Holmes  ten  dollars  to  defray  his  expenses  in 
coming  from  Baltimore,  and  the  second  act  in  the  great 
tragedy  was  over. 

“Like  vaulting  ambition,”  greed  often  o’erleaps  itself  and 
falls  on  the  other  side.  H.  H.  Holmes  had  brutally  killed 
Benjamin  F.  Pitezel,  which  was  very  far  from  being  the  first 
of  his  murderous  deeds.  As  will  hereafter  appear,  the  scheme 
invented  and  carried  into  effect  by  Holmes  was  simply  devilish 
in  its  ingenuity,  but  it  had  one  very  weak  point.  Marion  C. 
Hedgepeth,  confined  in  the  city  prison  of  St.  Louis  on  a 
charge  of  train-robbery,  knew  of  the  plan  to  defraud  the 
insurance  company  by  presenting  proofs  of  the  pretended 
death  of  B.  F.  Pitezel.  In  July,  1894,  Holmes  had  been  con¬ 
fined  in  the  same  prison  on  a  charge  of  swindling,  a  predica¬ 
ment  from  which  he  soon  escaped.  While  there  he  formed 
the  acquaintance  of  Hedgepeth.  There  is  a  fellow-feeling 
between  almost  all  criminals,  and  besides,  Hedgepeth  was 
notorious,  which  seems  to  have  led  Holmes  to  trust  him.  At 
any  rate,  he  unfolded  his  scheme  for  defrauding  the  Fidelity 
Mutual  Life  Association  out  of  $10,000.  He  told  the  robber 
that  the  only  thing  he  lacked  was  a  lawyer  who  could  be 
trusted  to  act  in  the  matter,  and  offered  to  give  Hedgepeth 
$500  if  he  would  secure  him  one.  As  the  robber  badly  needed 
that  amount  to  obtain  his  release,  he  sent  for  his  attorney,  J. 
D.  Howe,  whom  he  introduced  to  Holmes,  after  which  an 
understanding  was  reached.  Howe  claimed  that  he  went  into 
the  transaction  for  the  purpose  of  securing  funds  to  use  in  the 
interest  of  his  client,  Hedgepeth,  in  whom  he  was  much  inter¬ 
ested. 

As  already  detailed,  Howe  secured  the  money,  of  which  he 
retained  $2,500  as  his  fee;  Holmes  secured  about  $7,000, 
$5,000  of  which  he  made  Mrs.  Pitezel  believe  he  had  paid  to 
take  up  a  note  of  her  husband,  while  the  widow  was  given 
about  $400.  In  the  meantime,  Holmes  conveniently  forgot  to 
pay  the  imprisoned  train-robber  the  promised  $500,  and  the 
lawyer  took  no  active  steps  to  obtain  his  release.  About  two 
weeks  after  the  money  was  paid  over  to  Howe,  Hedgepeth 
wrote  Major  Lawrence  Harrigan,  chief  of  the  St.  Louis  police, 


4oS 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


a  letter  in  which  he  betrayed  the  whole  plan.  He  was  famil¬ 
iar  with  the  affair,  and  told  a  straight  story.  He  stated  that 
Howe  had  called  upon  him  in  the  prison  after  his  return  from 
Philadelphia,  and  told  him  all  the  particulars,  even  to  the 
circumstance  that  Holmes  had  telegraphed  the  premium  to  the 
Chicago  office  of  the  company  on  the  very  last  day  it  would 
have  been  received.  The  prisoner  was  indignant  at  the  treat¬ 
ment  he  had  received,  hence  the  disclosures.  Thus  a  breach 
of  faith  on  the  part  of  the  astute  Holmes,  a  failure  to  live  up  to 
the  old  maxim  touching  honor  among  thieves,  led  to  his  undoing. 

Inspector  Gary  of  the  Philadelphia  police  happened  to  be 
in  St.  Louis  on  business,  and  the  matter  was  at  once  brought 
to  his  attention.  He  called  upon  Hedgepeth,  and  secured  his 
statement  in  the  form  of  an  affidavit.  The  officers  of  the 
insurance  company  in  Philadelphia  placed  no  reliance  upon 
the  disclosure,  but  Gary  was  satisfied  that  the  man  had  told 
the  truth.  He  ascertained  that  the  premium  had  been  tele¬ 
graphed  just  as  he  had  said,  and  this  was  a  strong  confirma¬ 
tion,  since  how  could  he  have  learned  the  circumstance 
except  in  the  manner  he  claimed?  The  inspector  finally 
persuaded  the  officers  of  the  company  to  make  an  investiga¬ 
tion.  Holmes  was  traced  from  place  to  place,  and  was  finally 
located  and  placed  under  surveillance.  He  was  shadowed  to 
Boston,  where  he  was  arrested  November  17,  1894.  The 
charge  upon  which  he  was  apprehended  was  horse-stealing  in 
Texas.  Seeing  one  of  the  officers  of  the  insurance  company  at 
the  police-station,  he  suggested  that  he  was  probably  wanted 
in  Philadelphia  instead  of  Texas.  As  a  matter  of  fact  he 
feared  the  summary  justice  frequently  meted  out  to  people 
who  make  mistakes  about  the  ownership  of  horses  in  the  Lone 
Star  State,  and  had  no  mind  to  be  taken  there. 

Secured  in  the  Boston  police-station,  the  fertile  brain  of  the 
swindler-murderer  began  to  evolve  lies,  and  he  made  a  state¬ 
ment  on  November  19th.  He  was  examined  at  great  length, 
and  the  following  points,  among  many  others,  were  elicited: 
He  admitted  that  he  and  Pitezel  had  conspired  to  swindle  the 
insurance  company.  He  had  secured  a  body  in  New  York, 
from  parties  whose  names  he  refused  to  divulge,  and  taken  it  to 


HOLMES,  THE  MULTI-MURDERER  409 


Philadelphia  in  a  trunk,  the  check  of  which  he  had  given  to 
Pitezel.  He  next  saw  him  in  Cincinnati  some  two  weeks  after 
the  insurance  money  had  been  paid  over.  Holmes  had  taken 
three  of  Pitezel’s  children  to  Detroit,  and  their  father  had 
seen  them  there,  against  his  advice,  which  enhanced  the 
dangers  of  the  plot  being  discovered.  Holmes  put  Pitezel  into 
a  trunk,  which  he  himself  lifted  into  the  back  of  a  buggy,  and 
drove  out  of  the  city,  when  he  released  the  occupant.  They 
were  both  involved  in  trouble  at  Fort  Worth,  Texas,  and  had 
reason  to  fear  that  officers  were  upon  their  track.  Holmes 
took  the  children  out  to  Pitezel,  and  that  was  the  last  he  saw 
of  any  of  them.  He  believed  that  they  were  in  South  America, 
as  it  had  been  agreed  that  they  should  go  there.  He  had  tele¬ 
graphed  to  Mrs.  Pitezel,  who  was  with  her  parents  at  Galva, 
Ill.,  to  go  to  Chicago  and  from  there  to  Detroit.  After 
Pitezel  had  seen  his  children  he  was  fearful  to  have  them  meet 
their  mother,  lest  the  secret  might  reach  the  ears  of  outsiders 
through  their  talk.  He  begged  Holmes  to  keep  her  in  the 
dark  as  to  his  and  their  whereabouts  for  a  time,  which  he 
undertook  to  do.  On  this  journey  Mrs.  Pitezel  was  accom¬ 
panied  by  her  daughter  Dessie,  a  girl  of  eighteen,  and  a  young 
baby.  Holmes  admitted  that  he  had  taken  the  woman  and 
her  children  from  place  to  place  in  Canada  and  New  England, 
constantly  promising  to  unite  her  to  her  husband  and  the 
other  three  children.  This  policy  was  pursued  until  they 
were  arrested  in  Boston,  for  Mrs.  Pitezel  had  been  appre¬ 
hended  at  the  same  time.  During  all  these  wanderings, 
Holmes  was  accompanied  by  Miss  Yoke,  who  believed  herself 
to  be  his  wife,  yet  she  never  met  Mrs.  Pitezel,  nor  knew  any¬ 
thing  about  her  presence,  though  they  were  often  stopping  in 
close  proximity  to  each  other. 

The  reader  will  not  need  to  be  told  that,  for  the  most  part, 
all  this  was  a  tissue  of  lies.  B.  F.  Pitezel  was  dead.  Until 
October  25,  1894,  Holmes  was  traveling  with  a  party  of 
seven,  divided  into  three  detachments:  himself  and  wife ;  Mrs. 
Pitezel,  Dessie  and  the  baby;  the  two  other  Pitezel  girls, 
Nellie  and  Alice.  The  boy,  Howard,  he  had  already  mur’ 
dered  at  Irvington,  a  suburb  of  Indianapolis. 


4io 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


On  November  20,  1894,  Holmes  and  Mrs.  Pitezel  were 
taken  to  Philadelphia,  they  having  consented  to  go  without  the 
formality  of  a  requisition.  On  the  way  Holmes  assured  Dessie 
that  her  father  was  alive,  and  that  she  would  soon  see  him. 
He  told  the  officers  that  Pitezel  had  done  his  work  in  a  very 
bungling  manner,  and  laughed  as  he  talked  about  it.  Howe 
was  brought  from  St.  Louis.  In  due  time  Holmes,  Pitezel 
and  Mrs.  Carrie  Pitezel  were  indicted  for  conspiracy  to 
defraud. 

As  time  passed  on  Mrs.  Pitezel,  who  was  confined  in  the 
county  prison,  became  quite  communicative,  and  gave  the 
authorities  many  clues  that  promised  to  develop  into 
something  tangible  and  aid  in  locating  her  husband  and  chil¬ 
dren.  But  nothing  came  of  them,  although  they  were  care¬ 
fully  followed  out,  and  the  authorities  began  to  believe  that 
the  body  of  Pitezel,  and  not  a  substitute,  lay  buried  in  the 
potter’s  field.  In  the  meantime,  Holmes  had  ample  time  for 
reflection,  and  evidently  employed  it  to  good  advantage.  One 
thing  that  occurred  shortly  after  his  commitment  to  the  prison 
must  have  greatly  disturbed  him.  Inspector  Perry  asked  him 
who  helped  him  put  the  body  in  the  trunk  in  New  York  City. 
To  which  Holmes  replied,  that  he  did  it  alone,  a  trick  he  had 
learned  at  Ann  Arbor.  The  inspector  then  asked  him  the 
following  question,  to  which  he  made  no  answer:  “Can  you 
tell  me  where  I  can  find  a  medical  man  or  a  medical  authority, 
which  will  instruct  me  how  to  re-stiffen  a  body  after  rigor 
mortis  has  once  been  broken?” 

On  December  27,  1894,  Holmes  sent  for  R.  J.  Linden, 
Esq.,  superintendent  of  police  of  the  Department  of  Public 
Safety  of  Philadelphia.  He  promptly  acknowledged  that  he 
had  lied  in  his  statement  made  in  Boston,  and  volunteered  to 
make  a  new  one  which  should  be  strictly  true.  This  he  dic¬ 
tated  to  a  stenographer.  He  said,  in  brief,  that  the  plot  to 
defraud  the  insurance  company  had  been  arranged  by  Pitezel 
and  himself  in  the  fall  of  1893,  and  that  Mrs.  Pitezel  was  not 
informed  of  it  until  July,  1894.  He  told  of  meeting  Hedge¬ 
peth  in  the  St.  Louis  jail,  and  how,  through  him,  he  became 
acquainted  with  Howe,  He  admitted  that  he  had  promised  to 


HOLMES,  THE  M  U  L  T  I  -  M  U  R  D  E  R  E  R  411 


give  Hedgepeth  $300  of  the  proceeds.  He  and  Pitezel  went  to 
New  York,  where  they  arranged  the  details  of  the  scheme. 
Pitezel  then  went  to  Philadelphia,  where  he  rented  the  house 
No.  1316  Callowhill  street,  which  he  fitted  up  to  bear  out  the 
claim  that  he  was  a  dealer  in  patents.  Plolmes  was  also  in 
Philadelphia,  though  stopping  at  a  different  place.  Septem¬ 
ber  1st  Pitezel  told  Holmes  that  his  baby  was  sick,  and  that  he 
would  have  to  go  home,  at  the  same  time  asking  him  for 
money.  It  was  arranged  that  Holmes  should  go  in  his  place. 
The  next  day,  which  was  Sunday,  Holmes  repaired  to  the 
Callowhill  house.  It  was  about  half-past  ten  in  the  morning 
when  he  called  and  admitted  himself  by  the  aid  of  a  key 
which  he  carried.  Not  finding  Pitezel  he  went  out,  but 
returned  about  noon.  After  reading  a  morning  paper  for  a 
while,  he  went  to  his  desk,  where  he  found  a  paper  upon 
which  was  written  in  cipher:  “Get  letter  out  of  bottle  in 
cupboard.”  He  secured  the  letter,  which  informed  him  that 
he  would  find  Pitezel,  the  writer,  dead  upstairs,  if  he  could 
manage  to  kill  himself.  On  the  third  floor  he  found  the  dead 
body  of  the  man  he  sought.  He  had  died  from  chloroform 
poisoning.  He  carried  the  body  down  to  the  second  floor  and 
arranged  it  as  it  was  found  by  Smith.  This  was  done  about 
three  o’clock  in  the  afternoon.  To  carry  out  the  programme 
that  had  been  previously  arranged,  he  took  a  hammer  and 
broke  a  bottle  containing  benzine,  chloroform  and  ammonia; 
this  was  to  convey  the  idea  that  an  explosion  had  occurred. 
He  then  poured  some  of  the  fluid  over  the  body,  and  set  fire  to 
it.  Having  arranged  matters  to  his  satisfaction,  he  went  to 
his  lodgings,  reaching  there  about  five  p.  m.  He  at  once 
packed  up  his  effects,  and,  accompanied  by  his  wife,  who  was 
ill,  left  the  city  that  night  for  St.  Louis. 

Learning  from  a  St.  Louis  paper  of  Wednesday  that  the 
body  had  been  discovered,  he  looked  up  Mrs.  Pitezel  and 
family,  who  were  in  St.  Louis.  They  had  seen  the  report,  and 
the  children  were  much  distressed,  though  the  mother  was 
not,  as  she  supposed  that  the  original  plan  of  substitution  had 
been  carried  into  effect.  That  night  he  saw  Howe,  and 
arranged  with  him  to  collect  the  insurance.  Howe  did  not 


412 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


\ 


suppose  that  the  body  was  that  of  Pitezel.  He  explained  that 
Pitezel  had  taken  the  chloroform  through  a  tube  connected 
with  a  bottle.  These  Holmes'  carried  away  with  him.  He 
stated  that  he  had  given  the  three  children  to  a  Miss  Minnie 
Williams,  and  that  they  were  then  with  her  in  London,  Eng¬ 
land. 

After  this  statement  was  made,  George  S.  Graham,  the  dis¬ 
trict  attorney,  interviewed  the  prisoner.  He  told  him  that  he 
strongly  suspected  that  he  had  not  only  murdered  Pitezel,  but 
the  three  children  as  well,  and  called  upon  him  to  give  infor¬ 
mation  that  would  aid  the  authorities  in  locating  the  latter,  if 
they  were  alive.  Holmes  answered  that  he  last  saw  Howard 
in  Detroit,  when  he  gave  him  into  the  keeping  of  Miss  Wil¬ 
liams,  who  took  him  to  Buffalo.  Shortly  after  this  he  took 
Alice  and  Nellie  to  Toronto,  and'  a  few  days  later,  put  them 
on  a  train  for  Niagara  Falls,  where  Miss  Williams  was  to  meet 
them.  He  thoughtfully  pinned  $400  in  large  bills  in  Nellie’s  # 
dress,  that  the  party  might  not  lack  for  money.  At  New 
York  City,  he  said,  Miss  Williams  had  dressed  Nellie  in  boy’s 
clothes,  to  throw  any  inquiring  detectives  off  the  track,  after 
which  the  four  had  gone  to  London. 

The  scoundrel,  who,  the  reader  will  not  need  be  informed, 
was  constructing  lies  out  of  the  whole  cloth,  told  Mr.  Graham 
that  he  and  Miss  Williams  had  agreed  upon  a  cipher  for  use 
in  communicating  and  that  an  advertisement  so  written,  pub¬ 
lished  in  the  New  York  Sunday  Herald ,  would  be  certain  to 
meet  her  eye,  as  she  would  be  looking  for  it.  The  cipher 
was  as  follows: 

REPUBLICAN  republican 


CbepBc 

ABCDEFGHIJ  klmnopqrstuvwxyz.  Thus 

Holmes. 

In  the  New  York  Herald  of  Sunday,  June,  2,  1895,  an 
article  appeared  commenting  upon  the  Holmes-Pitezel  case, 
while  the  following  advertisement  was  inserted  in  the  per¬ 
sonal  column: 

“Minnie  Williams,  Adele  Covelle,  Geraldine  Wanda. — 

AplbenRun  nb  CBRc  EBLbrB  10th  PREeB  a  Bnucu  PCAe- 


HOLMES,  THE  MULTI-MURDERER  413 


UcBu  RubuPB.  Also  write  pk  PRaaAB  cbepBa.  Address, 
George  S.  Graham,  City  Hall,  Philadelphia,  Penn.,  U.  S.  A.” 

This  cipher  would  have  conveyed  to  Miss  Williams,  who, 
by  the  way,  Holmes  had  murdered  some  time  before,  the  fol¬ 
lowing  message:  “Important  to  hear  before  10th.  Cable. 
Return  children  at  once.  Also  write  Mr.  Massie.”  Holmes 
had  told  Mr.  Graham  that  Miss  Williams  had  opened  a  mas¬ 
sage  establishment  in  London  at  No.  80  Veder  or  Vadar 
Street,  but  a  cable  inquiry  established  the  fact  that  there  were 
no  such  streets  in  London. 

Minnie  and  Nannie  Williams  were  two  sisters  whose  sudden 
disappearance  had  excited  attention.  They  were  last  seen  in 
the  company  of  Holmes,  and  it  was  now  suspected  that  they 
had  met  with  foul  play  at  his  hands.  A  piece  of  real  estate 
which  they  owned  at  Fort  Worth,  Texas,  was  found  to  have 
been  conveyed  to  Benjamin  F.  Pitezel,  under  the  alias  of  Ben¬ 
ton  T.  Lyman,  from  whom  it  had  passed  into  the  possession  of 
Holmes.  That  scoundrel  had  told  a  most  improbable  story 
to  the  effect  that  Minnie  Williams  had  killed  her  sister  in  a 
moment  of  rage,  and  that  he,  to  shield  her,  had  sunk  the  body 
in  Lake  Michigan.  The  authorities  believed  that  the  three 
Pitezel  children  had  been  murdered,  but  this  story  of  sinking 
the  body  in  the  lake  had  left  them  little  hope  of  ever  finding 
their  remains,  since  he  was  quite  likely  to  have  carried  his 
lying  theory  into  practice  when  occasion  presented.  A  bundle 
of  letters  written  by  Alice  and  Nettie  Pitezel  to  their  mother 
and  grandparents,  together  with  a  number  written  by  Mrs. 
Pitezel,  in  Detroit  and  Toronto,  which  had  evidently  been 
given  to  Holmes  to  post,  were  found  in  his  possession  when  he 
was  arrested,  and  furnished  tangible  clues  as  to  the  wanderings 
of  the  party  after  Holmes  started  out  with  them.  After¬ 
wards  Mrs.  Pitezel  had,  to  all  appearances,  told  everything 
she  knew  about  the  mystery,  which,  most  unfortunately,  was 
very  little,  and  on  June  19,  1895,  she  was  set  at  liberty. 

Both  the  authorities  and  the  insurance  company  were  now 
satisfied  that  Holmes  was  a  murderer,  and  it  was  resolved  that 
a  systematic  search  be  made  for  the  missing  children,  the 
company  supplying  the  necessary  funds.  The  investigation 


414 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


was  placed  in  the  hands  of  Frank  P.Geyer,  for  twenty  years  a 
member  of  the  Philadelphia  detective  bureau.  The  most 
important  points  of  his  long  and  remarkably  clear  investigation 
are  presented,  taken  from  a  very  comprehensive  report  of  the 
great  case,  published  by  him  after  he  had  successfully  com¬ 
pleted  his  long  and  laborious  investigation. 

The  detective  was  provided  with  photographs  of  Holmes, 
Pitezel,  Alice,  Nellie,  Howard,  Dessie,  Mrs.  Pitezel,  and  also 
of  the  trunk  Holmes  claimed  to  have  used  in  getting  Pitezel 
out  of  the  city  of  Detroit,  and  the  trunk  the  three  children 
had  with  them.  Thus  equipped,  he  arrived  in  Cincinnati  on 
June  27,  1895.  He  found  that  Holmes  had  been  there  on 
September  28,  1894,  and  had  registered  at  a  cheap  hotel  as 
“Alex.  E.  Cook  and  three  children.”  It  was  learned  that  on 
that  day  he  had  rented  a  house,  paying  $15  in  advance.  The 
night  of  September  29th  the  party  stopped  at  another  hotel. 
Holmes  partly  furnished  the  house,  but  left  after  two  days. 
Doubtless  his  plan  was  to  murder  the  children  there.  As 
some  of  the  children’s  letters  were  dated  Indianapolis,  Geyer 
went  to  that  city.  He  found  that  “Etta  Pitsel”  had  registered 
at  the  Stubbins  House,  September  24,  1894.  By  means  of 
photographs,  she  was  identified  as  Alice  Pitezel.  On  Septem¬ 
ber  28th,  the  clerk  had  placed  her  on  a  Cincinnati  train.  This 
was  in  compliance  with  a  request  from  Holmes,  who  tele¬ 
graphed  from  St.  Louis  under  his  common  alias  of  Howard. 
Certain  that  the  murderer  had  returned  to  Indianapolis,  the 
detective  continued  his  search.  He  finally  discovered  that, 
on  October  1st,  the  “three  Canning  children,  Galva,  Illinois,” 
had  registered  at  the  Hotel  English.  Beyond  a  doubt  they 
were  the  Pitezel  children.  Geyer  also  discovered  that 
Holmes’  wife  had  been  in  the  city  from  the  18th  to  the  24th  of 
September,  1894,  the  time  when  Holmes  was  in  Philadelphia 
identifying  the  body  of  Pitezel.  From  September  30th  to  Octo¬ 
ber  4th,  the  woman  was  staying  in  a  hotel  within  a  hundred 
feet  of  the  one  where  the  children  were,  but  knew  nothing 
about  their  presence. 

Geyer  learned  that  Holmes  had  told  a  Mr.  Ackelow,  at 
whose  hotel  the  children  had  stopped  in  Indianapolis,  that 


HOLMES,  THE  MULTI-MURDERER  415 


Howard  was  a  bad  boy  and  he  wanted  to  put  him  in  a  reform- 
school.  From  this  he  had  concluded  that  he  had  killed  the 
boy.  Receiving  information  from  the  insurance  company  that 
Holmes  and  the  boy  had  been  seen  in  Detroit,  the  detective 
started  for  that  city.  On  the  way  he  stopped  at  Chicago,  and 
made  a  fruitless  effort  to  locate  the  children’s  trunk,  which 
Holmes  claimed  he  had  left  at  a  hotel  on  West  Madison  street. 
While  in  Chicago  he  visited  Holmes’  famous  “Castle”  on 
Sixty-third  street,  and  interviewed  the  janitor,  Pat  Quinlan, 
who  was  supposed  to  know  a  good  deal  about  Holmes’  villainy, 
but  learned  nothing  about  the  children. 

On  the  evening  of  July  4th  the  officer  reached  Detroit,  and 
the  next  day  began  his  investigations.  He  soon  learned  that 
Holmes  had,  about  October  15,  1894,  rented  a  house  at  241 
East  Forest  Avenue.  He  also  found  that  the  two  girls  had 
been  at  a  hotel  on  the  night  of  October  12th.  When  he  rented 
the  house,  Holmes  told  the  agent  that  he  wanted  it  for  a 
widowed  sister  with  three  children,  who  would  soon  be  there. 
In  the  meantime,  he  found  that  Holmes  and  his  wife  had  been 
at  another  hotel  on  the  same  day,  under  assumed  names.  An 
examination  of  the  house  Holmes  had  rented  led  to  no 
important  developments.  After  leaving  the  hotel,  Holmes 
and  his  wife  had  stopped  for  four  or  five  days  at  a  boarding¬ 
house  under  their  own  names.  At  the  same  time,  Mrs. 
Pitezel,  Dessie  and  the  baby  had  been  stopping  at  a  hotel  in 
Detroit,  subject  to  the  orders  of  Holmes,  who  claimed  that  he 
was  about  to  unite  her  to  her  husband  and  children.  That  H. 
H.  Holmes  possessed  executive  ability  in  addition  to  being  a 
villain,  none  can  doubt.  In  some  manner,  probably  by  play¬ 
ing  upon  their  fears,  the  monster  induced  the  children  to 
remain  in  their  room,  and  thus  reduced  the  chance  of  a  meet¬ 
ing  with  their  mother  to  a  minimum.  On  the  18th  and  19th 
of  October  Holmes  removed  the  three  sections  of  his  party  to 
Toronto,  where  he  domiciled  them  so  that  they  did  not  meet. 
On  the  morning  of  July  8th  Geyer  arrived  in  Toronto,  where 
he  was  destined  to  make  horrible  discoveries. 

The  detective  was  not  long  in  finding  the  hotels  at  which 
Mrs.  Pitezel  and  Holmes  and  wife  had  -stopped  upon  their 


416 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


arrival  there,  but  some  time  elapsed  before  he  encountered  the 
legend  upon  a  register:  “Alice  and  Nellie  Canning,  Detroit.” 
It  was  easily  established  that  they  were  the  two  Pitezel 
girls.  After  much  labor  and  many  disappointments,  Geyer 
finally  located  a  house  which  Holmes  had  rented  while  the  two 
missing  girls  were  in  Toronto.  This  was  at  No.  16  St.  Vincent 
street.  Inquiry  and  an  exhibition  of  the  photographs  soon 
established  the  fact  that  Holmes  and  the  girls  had  been  there 
at  the  time.  The  only  furniture  brought  to  the  house  was  an 
old  bed,  a  mattress  and  large  trunk.  An  old  man  living  next 
door  had  loaned  Holmes  a  spade.  He  said  that  a  widowed 
sister  of  his  was  to  occupy  the  house,  and  he  wanted  to 
arrange  a  place  in  which  she  could  store  potatoes.  A  place  in 
the  cellar  was  found  where  the  earth  seemed  to  have  been 
recently  disturbed,  and,  digging  down  to  a  depth  of  about 
three  feet,  the  badly  decomposed  remains  of  the  two  unfor¬ 
tunate  little  girls  were  reached.  Mrs.  Pitezel  was  sent  for  and 
came  at  once,  though  she  was  almost  in  a  state  of  collapse 
when  she  reached  Toronto.  She  easily  identified  the  remains, 
the  clothing  and  some  other  articles,  furnishing  the  most 
satisfactory  basis  for  reaching  the  conclusion. 

The  boy,  Howard,  remained  to  be  accounted  for,  and 
this  presented  the  most  difficult  problem,  since  the  detective 
had  already  covered  the  entire  ground  without  coming  any 
nearer  solving  the  mystery  than  when  he  started. 

There  had  been  some  evidence  tending  to  establish  the  cir¬ 
cumstance  that  a  small  boy,  presumably  Howard  Pitezel,  had 
been  seen  with  Holmes  in  Detroit.  After  going  carefully 
through  it,  however,  the  detective  decided  that  it  was  a  mis¬ 
take.  A  letter  written  by  Nellie  while  in  Detroit  contained 
the  brief  but  significant  phrase:  “Howard  is  not  with  us 
now.  ’  ’  There  is  something  strangely  pathetic  about  this.  At 
the  time  it  was  written  by  one  of  the  two  lonely  and  homesick 
girls,  their  mother,  older  sister  and  baby  brother  were  not 
more  than  a  block  away  from  them.  Beyond  a  doubt  the 
omission  to  mention  where  Howard  and  they  had  parted  com¬ 
pany  was  due  to  instructions  on  the  part  of  Holmes,  who 
probably  told  them  that  they  would  imperil  their  father’s 


H.  H.  HOLMES  ASPHYXIATING  THE  PITEZEL  GIRLS 


PAGE  42S 


HOLMES,  THE  MULTI-MURDERER  417 


safety  by  explaining  where  Howard  was,  or  where  they  had 
seen  him  last.  Satisfied  that  Howard  had  not  been  brought 
to  Detroit  with  the  girls,  the  detective  returned  to  Indian¬ 
apolis. 

Arriving  there,  he  was  given  every  possible  assistance  by 
the  police,  and  received  no  end  of  suggestions  and  clues  as  to 
houses  that  had  been  rented  about  the  time  the  boy  had  disap¬ 
peared.  Holmes  seems  to  have  had  a  mania  for  renting 
houses  when  he  had  dark  deeds  to  transact,  and  it  was  fairly 
certain  that  he  had  followed  his  rule  in  disposing  of  Howard. 
For  a  long  time  there  were  no  results ;  scores  of  clues  were 
run  down,  but  none  of  them  developed  anything.  After  the 
city  had  been  exhausted,  Geyer  and  his  assistants  began  upon 
the  suburbs.  Before  this  last  task  was  undertaken,  the  detect¬ 
ive  went  to  Chicago  to  run  down  some  clues  reported  there, 
and  then  returned  to  Philadelphia  to  consult  with  the  district 
attorney  and  others.  Finally,  in  the  latter  part  of  August,  he 
returned  to  Indianapolis,  after  having  in  vain  searched  several 
Indiana  and  Ohio  towns.  By  August  27th  every  outlying 
town  except  Irvington,  six  miles  from  Indianapolis,  had 
been  searched  without  results.  On  that  day  the  officers 
visited  that  beautiful  suburb,  and  soon  learned  that  a  man 
answering  the  description  of  Holmes  had  rented  a  house  there 
in  October,  1894.  Photographs  of  Holmes  and  Howard 
Pitezel  were  recognized  by  several  people,  and  the  officer  felt 
that  his  long  search  was  about  to  be  rewarded. 

On  entering  the  house,  a  one  and  a  half  story  cottage 
standing  alone,  the  party  at  once  descended  to  the  cellar  and 
began  a  systematic  search.  Nothing  incriminating  was  found 
there,  the  floor,  part  of  which  was  of  cement  and  part  of  hard 
clay,  not  having  been  disturbed.  Under  a  small  piazza  was 
found  fragments  of  a  trunk.  This  was  soon  identified  as  the 
one  for  which  Geyer  had  so  long  been  in  search.  In  the  barn, 
a  large  coal  stove,  called  the  “Peninsular  Oak,”  was  found, 
and  some  articles  of  furniture.  On  this  stove,  which  was  over 
forty  inches  high  and  some  twenty-two  inches  in  diameter,  the 
detective  found  what  he  thought  to  be  blood-stains.  As  a  vast 
and  curious  crowd  had  collected,  which  interfered  with  the 


418 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


search,  it  was  abandoned  for  that  day,  and  the  investigating 
party  returned  to  the  city.  Shortly  after  their  arrival  Dr. 
Barnhill,  of  Irvington,  came  to  Indianapolis  with  something  of 
the  utmost  importance.  This  consisted  of  a  small  package 
containing  pieces  of  badly  incinerated  bone,  which  the  doctor 
declared  to  be,  as  was  subsequently  fully  established,  portions 
of  the  skull  and  femur  of  a  child,  not  over  twelve  years  of  age. 
Dr.  Barnhill  and  his  partner,  Dr.  Thompson,  had  continued 
the  search  after  the  detective’s  departure.  Two  small  boys 
who  were  with  them  began  operations  on  their  own  account, 
and,  in  a  chimney-hole  in  the  cellar,  among  a  mass  of  ashes 
and  soot,  discovered  the  half-incinerated  bones.  Geyer  at 
once  returned  to  the  house,  broke  a  hole  in  the  chimney,  and 
carefully  sifted  its  contents.  He  recovered  almost  a  complete 
set  of  teeth,  the  pelvis  of  the  body  and  a  large  charred  mass 
which  proved  to  be  portions  of  the  liver,  stomach  and  spleen. 
Portions  of  the  iron  fastenings  of  the  trunk  were  also  dis¬ 
covered.  A  boy’s  coat,  proven  at  the  inquest  to  have  belonged 
to  Howard  Pitezel,  was  found  in  the  possession  of  a  grocer, 
with  whom  Holmes  had  left  it,  saying  that  the  boy  would  call 
for  it,  which  he  never  did.  The  inquest  was  held  next  day, 
Mrs.  Pitezel  being  present,  and  resulted  in  a  verdict  that  the 
remains  were  those  of  Howard  Pitezel,  who  had  come  to  his 
death  at  the  hands  of  H.  H.  Holmes. 

H.  H.  Holmes  was  now  in  great  demand.  Toronto,  Chicago 
and  Indianapolis  each  claimed  that  they  could  convict  him  of 
murder.  In  Chicago  the  excitement  had  been  intense.  Police 
investigations  indicated  that  a  number  of  people  associated 
with  the  monster  had  disappeared,  but  no  really  tangible  evi¬ 
dence  was  secured  upon  which  a  prosecution  for  murder  could 
be  reasonably  prosecuted  Holmes  was  indicted  in  Philadel¬ 
phia,  in  September,  1895,  for  the  murder  of  Benjamin  F. 
Pitezel.  The  case  was  set  for  trial  October  28th  following. 
When  the  day  arrived  Holmes’  counsel  made  a  desperate  fight 
for  a  continuance,  and  failing  to  secure  it,  announced  that  the 
prisoner  had  discharged  them  from  the  case.  The  court 
ordered  them  to  proceed,  but  they  refused  to  do  it,  and  left 
the  court-room.  Hon.  Michael  Arnold,  the  trial  judge, 


HOLMES,  THE  MULTI-MURDERER  419 


ordered  the  case  to  proceed,  and  Holmes  assumed  control  of 
his  own  defense,  examining  jurors  as  to  their  fitness  to  try  the 
case,  with  an  ability  that  was  quite  remarkable.  On  the 
second  day  of  the  trial  the  two  young  attorneys  who  claimed 
they  had  been  discharged  returned  and  took  charge  of  the 
prisoner’s  defense.  Miss  Yoke,  Holmes’  last  wife,  and  Mrs. 
Pitezel  were  leading  witnesses.  During  the  entire  trial  the 
accused  manifested  the  most  remarkable  coolness,  amounting 
to  apparent  unconcern.  He  admitted  that  the  body  found  at 
No.  1316  Callowhill  Street  was  that  of  Pitezel,  and  the  real 
question  at  issue  was  whether  or  not  he  had  committed  sui¬ 
cide.  The  evidence  was  clear  and  conclusive,  though  every¬ 
thing  bearing  on  the  murder  of  the  Pitezel  children  was  ruled 
out  by  the  judge.  The  trial  lasted  less  than  a  week,  the 
defendant  being,  on  October  28,  1895,  found  guilty  of  murder 
in  the  first  degree.  A  motion  for  a  new  trial  was  refused, 
and  on  November  30,  1895,  Herman  Webster  Mudgett,  alias 
H.  H.  Holmes,  was  sentenced  to  death.  On  an  appeal,  the 
Supreme  Court  of  Pennsylvania  refused  to  grant  the  con¬ 
demned  man  a  new  trial,  and  the  day  of  his  execution  was 
fixed  for  May  7,  1896. 

Under  the  date  of  April  9,  1896,  the  condemned  murderer 
gave  out  to  the  press  the  confession  already  referred  to.  It 
was  quite  voluminous,  and,  if  printed  in  full,  would  cover 
some  forty  pages  in  the  present  volume.  Doubt  has  been 
thrown  upon  some  of  the  details  given  by  Holmes.  This  was 
to  have  been  expected ;  a  man  with  his  reputation  for  lying  is 
not  believed  when  he  sees  fit  to  tell  the  truth.  Again,  a  man 
who  has  acquired  and  developed  the  “lying  habit’’  to  the 
extent  Holmes  did,  finds  it  well-nigh  impossible  to  adhere 
strictly  to  the  truth.  That  he  was  a  multi-murderer  has  been 
clearly  proven,  and  there  is  no  reason  to  believe  that  the 
detailed  statement  of  his  crimes  was  greatly  exaggerated. 
This  will  impress  the  reader  quite  strongly  when  he  reads  the 
wretch’s  acknowledgment  that  he  was  fully  within  the  pos¬ 
session  of  the  homicidal  impulse. 

Herman  W.  Mudgett,  alias  H.  H.  Holmes,  was  born  at 
Gilmanton,  N.  H.,  May  16,  i860.  His  parents,  who  were 


420 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


perfectly  normal  people,  are  still  living.  He  married  in  his 
native  State,  when  only  about  eighteen  years  of-  age,  Clara  A. 
Lovering,  whom  he  soon  deserted.  In  1878,  his  first  wife 
being  still  alive,  he  married  Myrta  Z.  Belknap,  under  the 
name  of  Harry  Howard  Holmes,  and  in  1894  married  Miss 
Yoke.  He  was  educated  for  a  physician  at  Ann  Arbor, 
Mich.,  after  he  was  married. 

Holmes  began  his  confession  by  solemnly  asserting  that  he 
would  write  the  full  and  exact  truth,  holding  back  nothing; 
after  which  he  proceeded  to  compliment  the  detectives  who 
had  unearthed  the  bodies  of  some  of  his  victims,  and  fastened 
upon  him  the  awful  crime  of  murder.  He  proceeded  to  state 
that  at  the  time  of  his  arrest  in  1894  he  was  a  normal  man,  at 
least  to  all  appearances,  though  he  believed  that  he  had,  long 
before,  given  himself  up  to  the  devil.  From  the  time  his 
imprisonment  began,  he  claimed  that  he  had  physically  degen¬ 
erated,  and  had  come  to  resemble  those  pictures  of  the  evil  one 
portrayed  by  the  medieval  artists  of  the  church. 

He  stated  that  he  first  committed  murder  in  1886,  his  vic¬ 
tim  being  Dr.  Robert  Leacock,  of  New  Baltimore,  Mich.,  a 
friend  and  former  schoolmate.  Knowing  that  there  was  a 
large  insurance  on  his  life,  he  enticed  him  to  Chicago,  and 
took  his  life  by  administering  a  large  dose  of  laudanum.  He 
took  the  body  with  him  to  various  places  around  Grand 
Rapids,  Mich. ,  before  he  was  able  to  dispose  of  it  with  safety, 
after  which  he  collected  the  insurance  money.  He  claims  that 
he  was  greatly  troubled  with  remorse  for  this  first  murder. 
“Later,”  he  wrote,  “like  the  man-eating  tiger  of  the  tropical 
jungle  whose  appetite  for  blood  has  once  been  aroused,  I 
roamed  about  the  world  seeking  whom  I  could  destroy. 
Think  of  the  awful  list  that  follows!  Twenty-seven  lives, 
men  and  women,  young  girls  and  innocent  children,  blotted 
out  by  one  monster’s  hand,  and  you,  my  reader  of  a  tender  and 
delicate  nature,  will  do  well  to  read  no  further,  for  I  will  in  no 
way  spare  myself,  and  he  who  reads  to  the  end,  if  he  be 
charitable,  will,  in  the  words  of  the  district  attorney  at  my 
trial,  when  the  evidence  of  all  these  many  crimes  had  been 
collected  and  placed  before  him  by  his  trusty  assistants, 


HOLMES,  THE  M  U  L  T  I -M  U  R  D  E  R  E  R  421 


exclaim:  ‘God  help  such  a  man!’  If  uncharitable,  or  only 
just,  will  he  not  rather  say:  ‘May  he  be  utterly  damned!’  and 
that  it  is  almost  sufficient  to  cause  one  to  doubt  the  wisdom  of 
Providence  that  such  a  man  should  have  so  long  been  allowed 
to  live?” 

According  to  Holmes’  story,  his  second  victim  was  a  Dr. 
Russell,  a  tenant  of  a  building  owned  by  him  on  Sixty-third 
street,  Chicago,  latterly  known  as  “The  Castle.”  He  claimed 
that  during  a  controversy  over  the  payment  of  rent  due  from 
the  doctor,  he  struck  him  with  a  heavy  chair,  killing  him 
instantly.  He  sold  the  body  to  a  medical  college,  and  after¬ 
wards  disposed  of  the  remains  of  a  number  of  his  victims  in 
the  same  manner,  receiving  from  $25  to  $45  each  for  them, 
thus  meriting  the  title  of  “burker.” 

His  next  victim,  a  woman,  died  as  a  result  of  a  criminal 
operation,  there  being  two  other  parties  cognizant  of  it.  The 
victim,  a  Mrs.  Julia  L.  Connor,  had,  Holmes  stated,  a  little 
daughter  named  Pearl,  whom  he  killed  by  poison,  because  he 
thought  she  was  old  enough  to  remember  her  mother’s  sick¬ 
ness  and  death,  and  perhaps  make  trouble  by  talking.  The 
parties  referred  to,  a  man  and  a  woman,  Plolmes  stated  to  be 
as  guilty  as  himself  of  this  last  murder. 

He  committed  his  fifth  murder  at  West  Morgantown,  Va. , 
the  victim  being  a  man  named  Rogers.  Learning  that  he 
carried  considerable  money  about  his  person,  Holmes  induced 
him  to  go  on  a  fishing  expedition  with  him,  and  killed  him  by 
a  blow  on  the  head  with  an  oar.  The  body  was  found  a  month 
afterwards,  but  Holmes  was  not  suspected  until  after  his  con¬ 
viction  in  Philadelphia.  Holmes  claimed  that  he  had  a  con¬ 
federate  in  some  of  the  murders  he  committed,  but  stated  that 
the  next  crime  of  this  awful  character  was  actually  committed 
by  him.  He  had  enticed  a  Southern  speculator  named  Charles 
Cole  to  come  to  Chicago.  While  engaged  with  him  in  con¬ 
versation  at  “The  Castle,”  the  confederate  struck  him  a  blow 
on  the  head  with  a  piece  of  gas-pipe,  which  not  only  deprived 
him  of  life,  but  so  badly  shattered  the  skull  as  to  render  the 
body  of  little  value  for  purposes  of  dissection. 

A  large  number  of  his  murders  were  committed  in  his 


422 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


“Castle.”  This  was  a  three-story  and  basement  building 
which  he  erected  at  Sixty-third  and  Wallace  streets,  Chicago. 
On  coming  to  Chicago  in  1877  Holmes  was  employed  in  a  drug 
store  in  that  part  of  the  city,  and  thus  became  familiar  with 
the  locality.  He  constructed  the  building  not  long  before  the 
opening  of  the  World’s  Fair,  and  claimed  that  he  proposed  to 
rent  apartments  on  the  second  floor  to  exposition  visitors.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  it  was  a  regular  murder-den.  It  will  seem 
almost  incredible,  but  it  is  doubtless  true,  that  the  wretch’s 
primary  object  in  erecting  this  building  was  to  provide  a  con¬ 
venient  place  to  gratify  his  inordinate  lust  and  murder  his 
victims.  Holmes  made  the  plans  himself  and  superintended 
the  construction,  frequently  changing  the  workmen  so  that  no 
one  knew  of  the  various  intricacies  of  its  construction.  It 
contained  a  perfect  labyrinth  of  tortuous  passages,  a  blind- 
room  for  storing  stolen  property,  a  number  of  secret  and  air¬ 
tight  chambers,  and  a  room  of  steel,  thickly  lined  with 
cotton-batting  and  asbestos,  to  stifle  the  shrieks  of  victims. 
From  the  second  floor  a  death-shaft  was  constructed  to  lower 
bodies  into  the  cellar,  from  whence  a  hidden  passage  led  to  a 
sealed  chamber.  The  cellar  contained  two  large  vaults  of 
quicklime,  and  a  hidden  tank  filled  with  a  deadly  oil.  Then 
there  was  a  first-class  crematory  for  reducing  bodies  to  ashes. 
The  whole  building  was  provided  with  electric  devices  by 
means  of  which  he  could  be  apprised  of  the  approach  of  any 
one  from  any  portion  of  the  building.  In  devilish  ingenuity, 
the  “Holmes  Castle’’  far  surpassed  the  fictitious  one  described 
by  Mrs.  Radcliffe  in  the  “Mysteries  of  Udolpho.” 

Holmes  possessed  a  peculiar  power  of  fascinating  women. 
His  manner  was  most  courteous  and  polite,  his  voice  sweet 
and  well  modulated,  his  eyes  bright  and  penetrating,  yet  soft 
and  insidious.  This  wonderful  power  he  constantly  exercised 
and  numbered  his  victims  by  the  score.  He  says  in  his  con¬ 
fession  that  his  seventh  victim,  a  servant-girl,  was  murdered 
in  the  “Castle.”  An  employ^  of  his,  named  Pat  Quinlan,  was 
infatuated  with  the  girl,  and  Holmes  feared  it  would  result  in 
his  leaving  him.  Before  locking  his  victim  in  the  close  vault 
to  die  of  slow  suffocation,  he  forced  her  to  write  letters  to 


HOLMES,  THE  M  U  L  T  I -M  U  R  D  E  R  E  R  423 


Quinlan  and  others,  stating  that  she  was  going  west,  and 
would  not  return.  After  this  followed  three  murders;  that  of 
a  married  woman,  her  unborn  child  and  niece,  the  latter  a 
young  lady.  The  two  women  surprised  him  as  he  was  prepar¬ 
ing  the  body  of  his  last  victim  for  shipment.  He  succeeded  in 
locking  them  in  the  vault,  where  he  suffocated  them,  but  not 
until,  by  promising  them  their  lives  on  the  condition  of  their 
leaving  the  city,  he  had  induced  them  to  write  letters  inform¬ 
ing  the  married  lady’s  husband  that  they  had  grown  weary  of 
him  and  were  going  away.  The  depravity  of  a  wretch  who 
could  deliberately  recount  such  baseness  and  cruelty,  even 
granting  that  he  exaggerated  or  lied  in  his  story,  can  hardly 
be  conceived. 

Much  has  been  written  of  the  case  of  Miss  Emmeline  G. 
Cigrand,  of  Dwight,  Ill.,  who  disappeared  most  mysteriously 
while  in  the  employ  of  Holmes  as  a  stenographer.  Holmes 
says  that  she  became  his  mistress,  and  that  he  disposed  of  her 
because  she  was  about  to  marry  a  young  man  whom  she  had 
known  at  Dwight.  His  first  idea  was  to  kill  the  prospective 
bridegroom — the  day  for  the  wedding  had  been  set — and 
failing  to  accomplish  his  end,  he  determined  to  murder  her 
instead.  When  she  called  to  bid  him  good-bye,  on  the  very 
day  fixed  for  her  marriage,  he  brutally  locked  her  in  his  vault, 
so  strongly  suggestive  of  Bluebeard’s  closet,  and  left  her  to  die 
a  lingering  death. 

Holmes  declared  that  his  next  victim  was  a  beautiful  young 
girl  named  Rosine  Van  Jassand,  whom  he  induced  to  come  to 
a  fruit  store  that  he  seems  to  have  established  on  Milwaukee 
Avenue,  Chicago,  for  the  one  purpose  of  entrapping  innocent 
girls.  He  compelled  her  to  live  with  him  for  some  time,  but, 
tiring  of  her,  killed  her  with  poison.  He  claimed  to  have 
buried  her  remains  in  the  store  basement.  It  is  altogether 
likely  that  this  story  is  no  exaggeration,  and  that  his  victim 
was  Edna  Van  Tassel,  who  was  employed  by  Holmes  and 
disappeared  in  1893.  It  is  probable  that  he  killed  her  in  the 
“Castle.” 

Soon  after  this  murder  he  put  an  end  to  the  life  of  his  jan¬ 
itor,  Robert  Latimer.  This  man  knew  something  of  Holmes’ 


424 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


fraudulent  schemes  in  the  past,  and  undertook  to  extort  “hush 
money”  from  him.  He  could  not  have  made  a  greater  mis¬ 
take,  and  paid  for  it  with  his  life,  his  body  going  to  a  medical 
college.  The  monster  declared  that  he  locked  him  in  a  secret 
room  and  left  him  to  starve  to  death.  Finally  the  poor 
wretch’s  pleadings  became  unbearable,  and  the  “kind-hearted” 
Holmes  killed  him,  in  what  manner,  he  did  not  say.  In  his 
confession  Holmes  numbered  his  victims,  and  the  fourteenth 
was  a  Miss  Anna  Betts,  whom  he  killed  by  substituting  a 
poisonous  drug  in  a  prescription  that  was  sent  to  his  drug¬ 
store  to  be  compounded.  One  cannot  be  expected  to  give  a 
reason  for  everything,  and  the  murderer  dismissed  this  case 
with  the  assertion  that  he  had  expected  to  be  called  as  a  phy¬ 
sician  to  attend  her. 

The  wretch’s  account  of  the  murder  of  an  inventor  named 
Warner  has  been  doubted,  and,  for  the  credit  of  human 
nature,  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  it  was  one  of  the  inventive 
vagaries  of  his  mind,  and  not  a  real  occurrence.  It  will  be 
briefly  recounted  because  it  shows  the  malignity  of  his  heart 
and  demonstrates  that  he  was  completely  under  the  influence 
of  the  impulse  to  take  human  life.  This  man  had  a  device  for 
bending  glass,  and  had  constructed  a  furnace  in  the  “Castle” 
for  the  purpose  of  demonstrating  its  practicability.  It  was  so 
arranged  that  by  a  combination  of  steam  and  burning  gas  the 
temperature  could  be  raised  to  a  white  heat  in  a  minute  or 
two.  “It  was  into  this  kiln,”  wrote  Holmes,  “that  I  induced 
Warner  to  go  with  me,  under  pretense  of  making  certain 
minute  explanations  of  the  process;  and  then  stepping  out¬ 
side,  as  he  believed,  to  get  some  tools,  I  closed  the  door  and 
turned  on  both  oil  and  steam  to  their  full  extent.  In  a  short 
time  not  even  the  bones  of  my  victim  remained.  The  coat 
found  outside  the  kiln  was  the  one  he  took  off  before  going 
therein.”  After  the  death  of  Mr.  Warner  the  murderer  drew 
a  large  sum  of  money  from  the  Park  National  Bank  of 
Chicago,  which  the  dead  man  had  on  deposit.  He  did  this  by 
“raising”  the  amount  of  two  small  checks  which  Warner  had 
given  him. 

Holmes  claimed  that,  in  1891,  he  had  become  associated  with 


HOLMES,  THE  MULTI-MURDERER  425 


a  young1  Englishman,  whose  name  he  did  not  give,  who  had 
committed,  by  his  own  admission,  every  crime  save  murder, 
and  presumably  that.  This  man  induced  a  wealthy  Wisconsin 
man,  named  Rogers,  to  come  to  Chicago  and  visit  the 
“Castle,  ’  with  a  view  to  investing  in  some  patents.  The  two 
secured  him  in  the  secret  room  and  forced  him  to  sign  checks 
and  drafts  for  $70,000.  They  did  this  by  alternately  starving 
and  nauseating  him  with  gas.  They  had  no  trouble  in  cashing 
the  checks  and  drafts.  Holmes  did  not  propose  to  put  the 
poor  wretch  to  death,  even  suggesting  that  he  be  set  at 
liberty.  He  did  this  to  force  his  partner  in  crime  to  take  the 
initiatory  step,  which  he  finally  did,  going  to  the  extent  of 
administering  the  chloroform  that  deprived  him  of  life. 
Holmes  sold  his  body  for  dissection.  The  wretph  narrated 
another  case  of  forming  a  partnership  to  murder.  The  victim 
was  a  wealthy  woman,  whose  name  he  claimed  to  have  for¬ 
gotten,  who  became  infatuated  with  a  tenant  of  his.  After  a 
time,  the  tenant  had  trouble  with  his  wife  on  her  account,  and 
came  to  Holmes  for  advice.  He  had  struck  the  right  man. 
The  tenant  lived  with  her  for  a  time  in  the  “Castle,”  after 
which  they  killed  her  with  chloroform — Holmes’  favorite  in¬ 
strument — and  divided  her  property. 

The  murder  of  the  Williams  sisters  was  one  of  the  worst  of 
the  fiend’s  many  inhuman  acts.  He  stated  that  it  gave  him  a 
certain  satisfaction  to  state  that  he  had  lied  when  he  said  that 
Minnie  Williams  had  killed  her  sister  in  a  fit  of  rage  and  he 
had  sunk  the  body  in  Lake  Michigan.  Holmes  said  that  he 
first  met  Minnie  Williams  in  New  York  in  1888,  and  again, 
early  in  1893,  in  Chicago.  Upon  the  second  introduction  she 
did  not  remember  having  met  him  before.  She  entered  his 
employ  as  a  stenographer.  His  fascinating  manner  proved  too 
much  for  her  to  resist,  though  she  had  previously  led  an 
entirely  correct  life.  He  induced  her  to  give  him  $2,500  in 
money  and  transfer  to  him  real  estate  in  Fort  Worth,  Texas, 
worth  $50,000.  Afterwards  he  secured  from  her  two  checks 
aggregating  $3,500.  Learning  that  she  had  a  sister,  Nannie, 
in  Texas,  who  had  some  property,  he  induced  Minnie  to  send 
for  her.  Upon  her  arrival  Holmes  met  her  at  the  train  and 


» 


426  MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 

took  her  to  the  “Castle,”  where  he  speedily  forced  her  to  make 
over  all  her  property  to  him  as  the  only  means  of  saving  her 
life,  after  which  he  suffocated  her  in  his  “vault  of  death.”  By 
means  of  intercepting  letters  and  forging  others,  he  succeeded 
in  keeping  Minnie  in  ignorance  of  the  fact  that  her  sister  had 
left  home.  A  fire  in  the  “Castle”  interfered  with  his  plans  for 
murdering  Minnie.  He  took  her  to  Momence,  Ill.,  and 
poisoned  her  about  eight  miles  east  of  that  town,  burying  her 
body  in  the  basement  of  a  house.  Holmes  expressed  contri¬ 
tion  for  the  murder  of  these  two  girls,  and  also  for  the  murder 
of  the  three  Pitezel  children.  Before  his  execution  he  denied 
that  he  had  himself  killed  the  latter,  and  attempted  to  show 
that  it  had  been  done  by  confederates. 

After  killing  a  man,  whose  name  Holmes  said  he  could  not 
recall — it  must  be  remembered  that  the  wretch  carried  on  a 
wholesale  business  in  murder — he  went  to  Leadvile,  Colo., 
and  killed  Baldwin  Williams,  a  brother  of  the  two  murdered 
girls,  securing  the  money  due  on  a  life-insurance  policy  in  the 
favor  of  Minnie  Williams,  the  beneficiary,  whose  assignment 
he  had  forged.  This  brought  the  murderer-author  down  to 
the  Pitezel  case.  Of  Pitezel  he  wrote: 

“It  will  be  understood  that,  from  the  first  hour  of  our 
acquaintance,  even  before  I  knew  he  had  a  family  who  would 
later  afford  me  additional  victims  for  the  gratification  of  my 
bloodthirstiness,  I  intended  to  kill  him,  and  all  my  subsequent 
care  of  him  and  his,  as  well  as  my  apparent  trust  in  him  by 
placing  in  his  name  large  amounts  of  property,  were  steps 
taken  to  gain  his  confidence  and  that  of  his  family,  so  that 
when  the  time  was  ripe  they  would  the  more  readily  fall  into 
my  hands.  It  seems  almost  incredible  now,  as  I  look  back, 
that  I  could  have  expected  to  have  experienced  sufficient  satis¬ 
faction  in  witnessing  their  deaths  to  repay  me  for  even  the 
physical  exertion  that  I  had  put  forth  in  their  behalf  during 
those  seven  long  years,  to  say  nothing  of  the  amount  of  money 
I  had  expended  for  their  welfare,  over  and  above  what  I  could 
have  expected  to  receive  from  his  comparatively  small  life 
insurance.  Yet  so  it  is  and  it  furnishes  a  very  striking  illus¬ 
tration  of  the  vagaries  in  which  the  human  mind  will,  under 


HOLMES,  THE  MULTI-MURDERER  427 


certain  circumstances,  indulge,  in  comparison  with  which  the 
seeking  of  buried  treasure  at  the  rainbow’s  end,  the  delusions 
of  the  exponents  of  perpetual  motion,  or  the  dreams  of  the 
hashish  fiend,  are  sanity  itself.  ’  ’ 

Holmes  admitted  that  he  killed  Benjamin  F.  Pitezel  on 
September  2,  1894,  as  had  been  proved  by  the  Commonwealth. 
Pitezel  was  much  addicted  to  intemperance,  and  the  murderer 
drove  his  victim  to  drink  by  writing  him  letters  of  a  very 
discouraging  character,  which  he  made  him  believe  came  from 
his  wife.  On  the  fatal  day  he  found  Pitezel  drunk,  and  pro¬ 
ceeded  to  carry  into  execution  his  long  cherished  plan.  The 
devil  that  reigned  within  this  miserable  wretch  and  drove  him 
on  to  commit  the  most  hideous  crimes,  never  laughed  more 
gleefully  than  on  this  occasion.  Having  tightly  bound  the 
legs  and  arms  of  his  drunken  victim,  he  saturated  the  body 
with  benzine  and  ignited  it  with  a  match.  Of  this  fearful  act 
the  arch-fiend  wrote : 

“So  horrible  was  this  torture  that  in  writing  of  it  I  have 
been  tempted  to  attribute  his  death  to  some  more  humane 
means — not  with  a  wish  to  spare  myself,  but  because  I  fear 
that  it  will  not  be  believed  that  one  could  be  so  heartless  and 
depraved — but  such  a  course  would  be  useless,  for  by  exclu¬ 
sion,  the  authorities  have  determined  for  me  that  his  death 
could  only  have  occurred  in  this  manner;  no  blows  or  bruises 
upon  his  body  and  no  drug  administered  save  chloroform, 
which  was  not  placed  in  his  stomach  until  at  least  thirty  min¬ 
utes  after  his  death,  and  to  now  make  a  misstatement  of  the 
facts  would  only  serve  to  draw  out  additional  criticism  from 
them.  The  least  I  can  do  is  to  spare  my  readers  a  recital  of 
the  victim’s  cries  for  mercy,  his  prayers,  and  finally,  his  plea 
for  a  more  speedy  termination  of  his  sufferings,  all  of  which 
upon  me  had  no  effect.  Finally,  when  he  was  dead,  I 
removed  the  straps  and  ropes  that  had  bound  him,  and  extin¬ 
guished  the  flames,  and  a  little  later  poured  into  his  stomach 
one  and  one-half  ounces  of  chloroform.’’ 

When  the  body  of  Pitezel  was  examined  for  identification, 
Holmes  cut  away  with  a  knife  such  portions  of  his  body  as  con¬ 
tained  the  marks  that  had  been  previously  agreed  upon.  He 


428 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


said  that  this  was  a  source  of  intense  gratification,  and  gave 
him  an  opportunity  of  pandering  to  his  inordinate  lust  for 
blood. 

He  gave  a  long  account  of  the  murder  of  Howard  Pitezel, 
which,  however,  threw  little  new  light  upon  the  matter,  so 
thoroughly  had  it  been  worked  out  by  Detective  Geyer.  He 
killed  the  boy  by  means  of  poison,  after  which  he  cut  up  the 
body  and  burned  it  in  the  large  stove  by  the  combined  use  of 
gas  and  corn-cobs.  Of  his  motives  for  this  act,  he  wrote : 

“If  I  could  now  recall  one  circumstance,  a  dollar  of  money 
to  be  gained,  a  disagreeable  act  or  word  upon  his  part  in  justi¬ 
fication  of  this  horrid  crime,  it  would  be  a  satisfaction  to  me ; 
but  to  think  I  committed  this  and  other  crimes  for  the  pleasure 
of  killing  my  fellow-beings,  to  hear  their  cries  for  mercy  and 
pleas  to  be  allowed  even  sufficient  time  to  pray  and  prepare  for 
death — all  this  is  now  too  horrible  for  even  me,  hardened 
criminal  that  I  am,  to  again  live  over  without  a  shudder.  Is 
it  to  be  wondered  at  that  since  my  arrest  my  days  have  been 
those  of  self-reproaching  torture,  and  my  nights  of  sleepless 
fear?  Or  that  even  before  my  death  I  have  commenced  to 
assume  the  form  and  features  of  the  evil  one  himself?” 

Holmes  gave  quite  a  detailed  account  of  his  travels  with  the 
two  remaining  children,  whom  he  planned  to  kill  in  Detroit, 
and  how  he  managed  to  keep  them  from  meeting  their  mother, 
sister  and  baby  brother,  all  of  whom  he  designed  to  murder, 
and  would  have  murdered,  but  for  his  opportune  arrest  in 
Boston.  Having  rented  the  house  No.  16  St.  Vincent  street, 
Toronto,  he  took  the  two  girls  there  late  on  the  afternoon  of 
October  25,  1894,  and  compelled  them  to  get  into  a  large 
trunk,  through  the  top  of  which  he  had  made  a  small  opening. 
He  then  borrowed  a  spade,  to  arrange  a  place  in  the  cellar, 
where  his  sister  could  store  potatoes.  Then  he  called  on  Mrs. 
Pitezel  at  her  hotel,  ate  dinner  at  his  own  hotel,  and  returned 
and  saw  Mrs.  Pitezel  off  on  a  train  for  Ogdensburg,  N.  Y. 
This  necessary  business  dispatched,  he  returned  and  engaged 
in  the  pleasurable  recreation  of  murdering  the  two  children. 

“Later  than  eight  p.  m.,”  he  wrote,  “I  again  returned  to 
the  house  where  the  children  were  imprisoned,  and  ended 


HOLMES,  THE  MULTI-MURDERER  429 


their  lives  by  connecting  the  -gas  with  the  trunk.  Then  came 
the  opening  of  the  trunk,  and  the  viewing  of  their  little  black¬ 
ened  and  distorted  faces,  then  the  digging  of  the  shallow 
graves  in  the  basement  of  the  house,  the  ruthless  stripping  off 
of  their  clothing,  and  the  burial  without  a  particle  of  cover¬ 
ing  save  the  cold  earth,  which  I  heaped  upon  them  with  fiend¬ 
ish  delight.  Consider  what  an  awful  act  this  was.  These  little 
innocent  and  helpless  children,  the  oldest  being  only  thirteen 
years  of  age,  a  puny  and  sickly  child,  who  to  look  at  one 
would  believe  much  younger;  consider  that  for  eight  years 
before  their  death  I  had  been  almost  as  much  a  father  as 
though  they  had  been  my  own  children,  thus  giving  them  a 
right  to  look  to  me  for  care  and  protection,  and  in  your  right¬ 
eous  judgment  let  your  bitterest  curses  fall  upon  me,  but  again 
I  pray,  upon  me  alone.” 

Herman  Webster  Mudgett,  alias  H.  H.  Holmes,  was 
hanged  in  Moyamensing  Prison,  Philadelphia,  on  the  morning 
of  May  7,  1896.  He  spent  his  last  day  in  writing  letters  to  his 
friends  and  completing  certain  business  with  his  lawyer. 
Some  time  before  his  execution  he  formally  embraced  the 
Roman  Catholic  religion,  in  which  faith  he  died.  He  died  as 
he  lived,  cool  and  impassive,  seemingly  as  thoughtless  of  his 
own  life  as  he  had  been  of  those  of  his  many  victims.  There 
is  much  truth  in  the  old  aphorism:  “The  ruling  passion  is 
strong  in  death,”  and  it  exemplified  itself  in  the  ending  of  the 
multi-murderer.  Next  to  the  love  of  murdering,  that  of  falsi¬ 
fication  was  the  passion  that  controlled  him  while  living,  and 
he  died  within  a  minute  after  calmly  uttering  a  lie  so  mon¬ 
strous  that  he  must  have  known  no  human  being  would  ever 
believe  it. 

“Gentlemen,”  he  said,  “I  have  very  few  words  to  say. 
In  fact,  I  would  make  no  remarks  at  this  time  but  for  my  feel¬ 
ing  that  in  not  speaking  I  would  appear  to  acquiesce  in  my 
execution.  I  wish  to  say  only  that  the  extent  of  my  wrong¬ 
doing  in  taking  human  life  is  the  killing  of  two  women — they 
having  died  by  my  hand  as  the  result  of  criminal  operations. 
I  wish  also  to  state  here,  so  that  there  can  be  no  chance  of 
misunderstanding  hereafter,  that  I  am  not  guilty  of  taking 


430 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


the  lives  of  the  Pitezel  family,  the  three  children  or  the 
father,  Benjamin  F.  Pitezel,  of  whose  death  I  was  convicted, 
and  for  which  I  am  to  hang  to-day.  That  is  all  I  have  to  say. 

Measured  by  the  established  rules  of  criminology,  the  case 
of  H.  H.  Holmes  is  a  difficult  one  to  analyze.  His  parents  were 
perfectly  normal  and  highly  respected  people,  and  the  same 
is  true  of  all  the  members  of  his  immediate  family.  In  youth 
he  appears  to  have  been  of  a  most  amiable  disposition.  His 
face  was  good,  his  eyes  frank  and  honest,  and  possessed  a  habit 
of  looking  fairly  into  those  of  others.  His  manner  was  most 
engaging,  and  of  a  character  to  inspire  confidence.  Though 
sometimes  in  trouble,  as  a  result  of  the  numerous  fraudulent 
schemes  in  which  he  engaged,  no  one  seems  to  have  imgained 
that  he  was  anything  worse  than  tricky  and  dishonest,  until  the 
awful  disclosures  that  followed  his  arrest.  His  case  cannot  be 
assigned  to  the  category  of  degenerates. 

But  if  the  theory  of  the  homicidal  impulse  be  accepted, 
there  is  nothing  in  the  life  of  this  monster  that  cannot  be  satis¬ 
factorily  explained.  The  inherent  disposition  to  take  life  was 
naturally  strong  in  Holmes,  and  this,  thanks  to  his  almost 
total  lack  of  conscience,  coupled  with  his  cupidity  and  lust, 
rapidly  grew  upon  him  until  it  became  the  controlling  impulse 
of  his  life,  and  drove  him  on  to  the  commission  of  the  most 
revolting  crimes.  This  is  apparent  from  the  monster’s  con¬ 
fession.  That  he  lied  in  many  particulars  is  doubtless  true, 
but  in  explaining  the  motives  that  induced  him  to  adopt  his 
murderous  course,  he  undoubtedly  told  the  substantial  truth. 
His  nature  had  become  so  perverted  that  he  derived  positive 
pleasure  in  depriving  his  fellow-creatures  of  life,  actually 
gloating  over  the  sufferings  of  his  victims. 

This  monster  was  once  an  innocent  babe,  an  interesting 
child,  an  attractive  youth,  yet  by  giving  way  to  this  death¬ 
dealing  impulse,  he  descended  to  depths  of  depravity  where 
human  comparisons  fail  and  reference  must  be  made  to  the 
devil  himself,  whom  Holmes  declared  he  had  come  to 
resemble  in  appearance,  as  well  as  disposition. 

The  moral  of  this  man’s  infamous  life  and  death  is  not 
hard  to  find :  The  love  of  self  was  the  mainspring  that  con- 


HOLMES,  THE  MULTI-MURDERER  431 


trolled  all  his  actions.  He  fostered  the  lowest  and  most 
debased  of  human  impulses,  until  he  became  utterly  depraved, 
completely  perverted.  Had  he  yielded  to  better  promptings, 
he  might  have  lived  a  useful  life  and  died  an  honorable  death. 
No  one  who  reads  these  pages  should  fail  to  profit  by  his  ter¬ 
rible  example. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 


HAYWARD  CASE 

“May  the  curse  of  God  fall  on  you  and  yours,  and  allow  me, 
from  the  minute  I  drop  from  the  scaffold,  to  haunt  you  day 
and  night,  until  your  death.  Then  I  will  welcome  you  on  the 
brink  of  hell  with  a  red-hot  poker.  ” 

Uttered  within  three  days  of  the  time  when  he  was  to  meet 
death  at  the  hands  of  the  hangman,  and  addressed  to  his 
brother,  who  had  just  finished  saying,  “God  bless  you,  Harry; 
good-by,  Harry,”  these  awful  words  furnish  sufficient  data 
from  which  to  form  a  correct  judgment  of  the  real  character 
of  the  condemned  murderer,  Harry  T.  Hayward.  The  crime 
for  which  he  suffered  death  was  at  once  detestable  and  sensa¬ 
tional,  and  will  take  its  place  among  the  remarkable  murders 
of  this  generation.  It  was  committed  in  the  outskirts  of  the 
city  of  Minneapolis,  Minn.,  on  the  night  of  Monday,  Decem¬ 
ber  3,  1894. 

About  eight  o’clock  in  the  evening  of  that  day,  as  a  young 
man  named  William  U.  Erhardt  was  returning  from  the  city 
to  his  home,  beyond  the  upper  end  of  Lake  Calhoun,  he  came 
upon  the  dead  body  of  a  woman  lying  by  the  roadside.  It  was 
a  wild  spot,  where  a  road  had  been  cut  through  a  tamarack 
swamp.  He  hastened  to  give  the  alarm,  and  the  body  was 
removed  to  the  county  morgue.  Before  discovering  the  body 
the  young  man  had  seen  a  horse,  attached  to  an  empty  buggy, 
dashing  wildly  along,  and  the  death  was  supposed  to  have 
been  the  result  of  a  runaway  accident.  The  woman’s  nose 
had  been  badly  crushed,  and  the  skull  fractured  in  two  places. 
These  facts  seemed  to  confirm  the  theory,  but  a  more  minute 
examination  disclosed  a  small  hole  back  of  the  right  ear, 
from  which  a  bullet  was  extracted.  At  first  it  was  believed  to 


432 


HAYWARD  CASE 


433 


be  a  case  of  suicide,  but  events  soon  came  to  light  which 
placed  it  within  the  awful  category  of  murder. 

About  nine  o’clock  that  evening,  a  horse,  which  a  livery¬ 
man  named  Henry  Goosman  had  hired  earlier  in  the  evening 
to  a  stylish  city  dressmaker,  named  Catherine  M.  Ging, 
returned  to  its  owner’s  barn,  with  an  empty  buggy.  On  the  seat 
and  also  in  the  bottom  of  the  vehicle  quite  a  quantity  of  blood 
was  discovered.  This  was  promptly  reported  to  the  police,  and 
led  to  the  speedy  identification  of  the  body  at  the  morgue  as 
that  of  Miss  Ging.  The  young  woman,  together  with  a  niece 
named  Louise  Ireland,  resided  in  the  Ozark  flats,  a  modern 
apartment  building,  owned  by  W.  W.  Hayward.  The  city 
was  thrown  into  the  wildest  excitement,  and  reporters  and 
police  hurried  to  the  home  of  the  dead  woman.  While  the 
place  was  still  thronged,  Harry  T.  Hayward,  the  youngest  son 
of  the  owner,  appeared  upon  the  scene.  He  had  a  flat  in  the 
building,  of  which  he  had  general  charge,  and  had  just 
returned  from  a  theatre,  where  he  had  been  accompanied  by 
a  young  lady  of  his  acquaintance. 

The  officers  found  nothing  in  Miss  Ging’s  flat  that  threw 
any  light  upon  the  matter.  Apprised  of  the  occurrence,  Hay¬ 
ward,  accompanied  by  Emil  Ferrant,  went  to  the  police  head¬ 
quarters.  Up  to  the  time  of  their  arrival  the  idea  that  a  crime 
had  been  committed  was  not  entertained  by  any  one,  the 
bullet-hole  not  having  been  discovered  at  that  time.  Hayward 
at  once  announced  that  Miss  Ging  had  been  murdered,  and 
that  the  crime  had  been  committed  for  money.  Later,  when 
told  of  the  discovery  of  the  bullet,  he  exclaimed:  “She’s  been 
murdered,  and  my  $2,000  are  gone!’’ 

The  statement  made  by  Harry  Hayward  was  correct;  the 
young  woman  had  indeed  been  murdered  for  money,  and  the 
crime  had  been  committed  at  his  instigation.  The  fact  that 
Hayward  knew  a  good  deal  of  the  habits  and  recent  move¬ 
ments  of  the  dead  woman  was  speedily  learned,  and  he  was 
closely  questioned,  but  no  light  was  thrown  upon  the  dark 
mystery.  He  stated  that  he  had  loaned  her  considerable 
money,  and  had  taken  some  policies  of  insurance  on  her  life, 
by  way  of  security.  He  was  unable  to  suggest  who  had  prob- 


434 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


ably  committed  the  crime,  and  nothing  further  was  learned 
that  night. 

The  news  of  the  mysterious  murder  created  an  intense 
excitement,  and  the  mayor  of  the  city,  W.  H.  Eustis,  took 
personal  charge  of  the  investigation.  The  day  following  the 
commission  of  the  crime  he  caused  Harry  Hayward  to  be 
brought  before  him  and  the  chief  of  police  for  examination. 
It  was  thought  that  he  might  give  important  information, 
though  he  does  not  appear  to  have  fallen  under  suspicion. 
From  ten  o’clock  in  the  morning  until  two  o’clock  the  follow¬ 
ing  morning,  he  was  subjected  to  a  fusillade  of  questions,  all  of 
which  he  answered  promptly,  and  most  of  them  satisfactorily. 
He  maintained  an  air  of  perfect  confidence  and  apparent  inno¬ 
cence.  Although  his  recitals  aroused  suspicions  that  he  knew 
more  than  he  was  disposed  to  tell,  there  was  no  evidence  to 
warrant  his  arrest,  and,  after  spending  the  remainder  of  the 
night  in  the  office  of  the  chief  of  police,  he  was  discharged  the 
following  morning,  though  kept  under  police  surveillance. 
From  this  point  facts  accumulated  in  a  manner  that  would 
have  done  credit  to  the  imagination  of  the  most  sensational 
novelist,  while  they  were  themselves  of  a  most  remarkable, 
almost  improbable,  character. 

On  December  5th,  two  days  after  the  murder,  Albert  H. 
Hall,  assistant  county  attorney,  received  a  long  letter  from  a 
former  associate  of  his,  an  old  lawyer  and  real  estate  man, 
named  Levi  M.  Stewart,  familiarly  known  as  “Elder  Stewart.” 
The  elder  stated  that,  three  days  before  the  murder,  Adry 
Hayward,  a  brother  of  Harry,  whom  he  had  known  intimately 
for  many  years,  having  been  the  lawyer  and  friend  of  the 
Hayward  family,  had  called  upon  him  and  told  a  most  remark¬ 
able  and  shocking  tale,  which  the  writer  had  regarded  as  pure 
nonsense,  until  later  events  had  given  it  a  terrible  signifi¬ 
cance.  In  brief,  it  was  to  the  effect  that  his  brother,  Harry, 
had  attempted  to  secure  his  aid  in  murdering  a  woman — a 
dressmaker — for  the  purpose  of  making  money,  as  Harry  held 
insurance  policies  upon  her  life  for  quite  a  large  sum.  Adry 
stated  that  he  had  positively  refused  to  have  anything  to  do 
with  the  dark  scheme,  and  had  tried  to  dissuade  his  brother 


HAYWARD  CASE 


435 


from  carrying-  it  into  effect.  He  was  certain,  however,  that 
his  protests  would  prove  unavailing,  since  Harry  had  a  con¬ 
federate,  and  believed  that  he  still  designed  to  accomplish  the 
woman’s  murder. 

The  good  elder,  who  knew  Harry  Hayward  to  be  a  most 
remarkable  liar,  thought  that  he  had  simply  been  trying  to 
frighten  Adry,  and  told  the  latter  so.  But  for  Harry’s  reputa¬ 
tion  as  a  liar,  the  awful  crime  might  have  been  prevented. 

This  communication  raised  a  suspicion,  amounting  almost 
to  a  conviction,  that  Harry  Hayward  had  had  some  connection 
with  the  murder,  and  the  mayor,  who  had  been  apprised  of  its 
contents  by  Mr.  Hall,  hastened  to  send  for  the  young  man. 
In  the  meantime,  he  had  been  adding  to  the  existing  circum¬ 
stances  against  him  by  making  inquiries  as  to  the  steps  to  be 
taken  for  the  prompt  collection  of  the  $10,000  insurance  he 
held  upon  the  life  of  the  murdered  girl.  He  was  taken  to  the 
West  Hotel,  where  he  was  interrogated  at  great  length.  As 
a  part  of  his  examination,  he  was  taken  to  the  morgue,  and 
there  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  confronted  with  the  rem,ains 
of  the  dressmaker.  If  this  was  expected  to  break  him  down 
it  was  a  dismal  failure ;  he  did  not  even  flinch. 

‘  ‘  Poor  girl — poor  dead  girl,  ’  ’  he  said,  with  every  indication 
of  genuine  emotion,  “if  you  could  only  speak  now  you  could 
tell  who  it  was.” 

At  5  130  that  afternoon  a  warrant  was  formally  read  to 
Hayward,  and  he  was  under  arrest  on  the  awful  charge  of 
murdering  Catherine  Ging.  Shortly  before  midnight,  that 
same  day,  Adry  Hayward  was  taken  into  custody,  charged 
with  having  fired  the  fatal  shot.  There  was  no  particular  evi¬ 
dence  against  Adry,  but  the  police  thought  that  he  might  have 
become  an  actor  in  the  programme  he  had  outlined  to  Elder 
Stewart.  The  two  brothers  were  locked  up  in  the  county  jail, 
where  Adry  refused  to  answer  questions  put  to  him  by  the 
police.  At  last,  on  Friday,  he  was  confronted  with  Mr. 
Stewart.  The  latter  strongly  advised  Adry  to  make  a  clean 
breast  of  the  matter.  The  conference  ended  in  his  repeating 
to  the  police  the  same  story  he  had  told  Elder  Stewart ;  then 
so  ridiculous,  now  so  weighty  and  so  fearfully  incriminating 


436 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


his  own  brother.  In  addition  to  the  original  tale,  he  disclosed 
the  name  of  Harry’s  confederate,  Claus.  A.  Blixt,  the  engineer 
of  the  Ozark  flats.  Blixt  was  arrested  that  day,  together  with 
a  man  named  Ole  Erickson,  who  had  been  much  with  him  just 
before  the  murder.  The  engineer’s  wife  was  also  taken  into 
custody.  They  were  not  consigned  to  the  jail,  but  placed  in  a 
lock-up  a  mile  distant.  A  little  later  the  public  excitement 
became  so  great  that  the  two  brothers  were  removed  to  St. 
Paul,  ten  miles  away,  and  confined  in  the  Ramsey  county  jail. 

Mrs.  Blixt,  who  was  entirely  innocent,  hastened  to  tell  all 
she  knew  that  could  have  a  bearing  on  the  crime,  which  was 
that,  for  some  time  before  the  murder,  Harry  Hayward  had 
been  much  with  her  husband  in  the  engine-room  of  the  build¬ 
ing.  She  was  released  from  confinement,  but  was  shadowed 
for  some  time. 

Left  to  his  own  reflections,  and  free  from  the  seemingly 
overpowering  influence  that  Harry  Hayward  had  exerted  over 
him,  Blixt  was  seized  with  an  agony  of  dread,  which  increased 
as  the  hours  passed.  At  length,  on  Sunday,  December  9th,  he 
broke  down  completely,  and  said  that  he  desired  to  make  a  full 
confession  of  his  part  in  the  tragedy.  A  stenographer  was 
sent  for,  and  the  statement  of  the  engineer  taken  down  in  full. 

He  said  that  for  months  Harry  Hayward  had  been  trying 
to  induce  him  to  murder  Miss  Ging.  To  prepare  him  for  the 
deed,  Harry  had  told  him  of  many  murders  that  he  had  com¬ 
mitted.  Finally  he  induced  the  engineer  to  burn  a  barn, 
simply  to  tighten  his  hold  upon  his  tool.  Many  schemes  for 
murdering  the  dressmaker  were  discussed.  The  means 
employed  by  the  murderous  wretch  will  be  better  understood 
from  his  confession,  a  portion  of  which  will  be  found  towards 
the  end  of  the  present  account.  At  length,  Blixt  said,  Decem¬ 
ber  3,  1894,  was  settled  upon  as  the  time.  Harry  was  to  drive 
her  out  to  Lake  Calhoun,  and  kill  her,  after  which  Blixt  was 
to  join  him  and  dispose  of  the  remains.  He  said  that  the  pro- 
grammme  was  carried  out.  He  was  on  the  ground  in  advance 
of  the  couple’s  coming.  He  heard  a  shot  fired,  and  a  moment 
later  Harry  drove  up,  supporting  the  body  of  the  murdered 
woman.  “Be  sure  she’s  dead,”  he  cried,  as  he  jumped  out  of 


HAYWARD  CASE 


437 


the  buggy,  “before  you  leave  her.”  Blixt  concluded  with  an 
account  of  how  he  threw  the  body  out  of  the  vehicle,  turned 
the  horse  loose,  and  made  his  way  back  to  his  home  in  the 
flats. 

This  statement  removed  all  doubts  from  the  minds  of  the 
police,  and  they  regarded  the  evidence  as  complete.  But  they 
soon  realized  that  Harry  Hayward  was  not  the  only  liar  in 
Minneapolis,  since  he  was  undoubtedly  at  the  Grand  Opera 
House  at  the  time  the  murder  was  committed  and  could  prove 
a  complete  alibi.  Blixt  was  at  once  subjected  to  a  rigid  cross- 
examination,  under  which  he  broke  down  and  admitted  that  he 
had  shot  the  girl  himself,  though  maintaining  that,  in  other 
respects,  his  first  confession  was  correct.  In  his  first  story  he 
had  followed  one  of  the  many  plans  suggested  by  Harry. 

Seldom  in  this  country  has  judicial  action  more  swiftly  fol¬ 
lowed  the  commission  of  a  great  crime.  On  Monday,  Decem¬ 
ber  ioth,  the  grand  jury  began  an  investigation  of  the  case, 
Adry  Hayward  being  used  as  a  witness.  The  following  day 
two  indictments  were  found  against  Harry  T.  Hayward  and 
Claus.  A.  Blixt,  charging  them  with  the  murder  of  Catherine 
Ging.  On  December  17th,  Blixt  was  arraigned  and  entered  a 
plea  of  guilty.  The  court  appointed  two  attorneys  to  repre¬ 
sent  him,  but  his  family  secured  the  services  of  R.  R.  Odell  to 
defend  him.  Under  the  advice  of  his  attorney,  who  assured 
him  that  he  would  escape  the  gallows,  Blixt  appeared  in  court 
and  altered  his  plea  to  not  guilty.  Sheriff  Ege  brought  Hay¬ 
ward  from  St.  Paul  in  an  interurban  car.  He  was  not  ironed, 
and  his  identity  not  discovered.  December  2 2d  he  entered  a 
plea  of  not  guilty,  and  the  trial  was  set  for  January  21,  1895. 
Hayward’s  father  had  secured  for  him  very  able  counsel:  W. 
W.  Erwin,  of  St.  Paul,  and  John  Day  Smith,  of  Minneapolis. 

The  famous  trial  began  at  the  appointed  time,  and 
attracted  wide  attention.  The  position  of  Adry  Hayward  was 
somewhat  equivocal,  and  many  believed  that  he  had  a  guilty 
connection  with  the  crime;  indeed,  Harry  attempted  to  throw 
the  whole  responsibility  upon  him.  Ten  days  were  consumed 
in  securing  a  jury,  a  special  venire  of  two  hundred  being 
exhausted  before  twelve  men,  acceptable  to  both  sides,  were 


I 


438  MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 

found.  One  of  these  was  subsequently  discharged,  it  being 
ascertained  that  he  had  expressed  himself  as  opposed  to  cap¬ 
ital  punishment.  The  trial  was  before  Judge  Smith. 

Over  one  hundred  witnesses  were  examined,  the  most 
important  of  them  being  Blixt,  the  actual  murderer.  He  told 
substantially  the  same  story  as  in  his  second  confession,  and 
made  a  decided  impression  upon  the  jury.  Adry  Hayward 
was  also  an  important  and  sensational  witness.  He  said  that 
during  the  past  summer  Harry  had  told  him  that  he  was  mak¬ 
ing  certain  investments  for  a  dressmaker.  In  September  he 
asked  Adry  if  he  wanted  to  make  $2,000  by  killing  a  woman, 
but  Adry  declined  to  have  anything  to  do  with  it,  and  tried  to 
dissuade  his  brother  from  the  awful  deed.  On  Thanksgiving 
day,  he  again  tried  to  induce  him  to  give  it  up.  He  said  that 
Harry  had  told  him  that  Blixt  would  do  the  deed.  On 
December  3d  he  told  Adry  that  he  had  better  go  to  the 
theatre  that  night,  as  something  was  going  to  happen.  After 
their  arrest,  while  in  jail  together,  Harry  said  to  him:  “Oh, 
well,  Blixt  will  stick  out ;  I  am  more  afraid  of  what  you  might 
say  than  anybody  else.  ’  ’  There  was  a  mass  of  other  testi¬ 
mony  of  a  decidedly  convincing  character.  One  witness  swore 
that  he  saw  Harry  Ha3^ward  in  a  buggy  with  Miss  Ging  about 
half-past  seven  o’clock  on  the  evening  of  the  murder,  while 
another  had  seen  him,  a  little  later,  running  away  from  the 
neighborhood  of  the  place  where  he  was  said  to  have  turned 
the  buggy  over  to  Blixt. 

Harry’s  father  and  mother  both  testified  in  his  behalf, 
though  their  statements  were  of  little  importance.  One  of  the 
most  sensational  features  of  the  long  trial  was  the  appearance 
of  the  prisoner  in  the  witness  chair.  For  two  days  he  was 
questioned  and  cross-questioned,  without  disconcerting  him  to 
the  smallest  extent;  indeed,  the  sang-froid  he  preserved  was 
something  remarkable  and  called  out  expressions  of  general 
wonderment.  He  entered  most  emphatic  denials  to  the  state¬ 
ments  of  Blixt  and  his  brother  Adry. 

The  case  was  given  to  the  jury  on  the  morning  of  Friday, 
March  8th,  having  consumed  nearly  seven  weeks.  After  four 
hours’  deliberation  a  verdict  of  guilty  was  returned.  On  March 


HAYWARD  CASE 


439 


nth,  Harry  T.  Hayward  was  formally  sentenced  to  be  hung, 
on  a  day  to  be  appointed  by  the  governor  of  the  State,  not  less 
than  three  months  from  that  day.  He  received  the  death  sen¬ 
tence  with  a  sneer;  indeed,  he  appears  to  have  been  quite 
confident  that  he  would  escape  the  gallows.  For  years  the 
condemned  man  had  been  a  gambler — indeed,  according  to  his 
own  confession,  it  was  this  vice  that  had  led  him  to  commit 
murder.  As  a  gambler  he  was  much  given  to  the  calculation 
of  chances  and  entertained  a  high  opinion  of  his  ultimate  good 
luck.  The  execution  of  the  sentence  was  deferred  to  permit 
the  hearing  of  an  appeal  to  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  State. 
This,  however,  availed  the  condemned  man  nothing,  the  court 
below  being  sustained  on  all  the  material  points. 

Harry  Hayward’s  father  was  quite  a  wealthy  man,  and  the 
young  man  was  well  supplied  with  money  while  in  jail. 
Thanks  to  this,  he  appears  to  have  been  quite  confident  of 
effecting  an  escape.  He  expected  to  gain  his  freedom  on 
October  9th,  through  the  aid  of  associates.  He  gave  Michael 
Kierce,  the  court-house  jailer,  halves  of  eleven  bank-notes  of 
one  hundred  dollars  each.  The  other  portions  of  them  were 
to  be  given  to  him  when  Hayward  secured  his  liberty.  Kierce 
carried  these  half-notes  to  the  sheriff  and  explained  the  whole 
matter.  The  prisoner  was  searched,  and  quite  a  large  sum  of 
money,  halves  of  the  eleven  notes,  keys,  etc.,  were  found  con¬ 
cealed  upon  his  person.  The  supreme  disgust  of  the  murderer 
to  so  narrowly  miss  escaping  can  be  better  imagined  than 
described.  He  was  removed  to  another  cell,  where  he  spent 
the  remainder  of  his  life  in  solitary  confinement. 

Blixt  appears  to  have  fully  realized  the  enormity  of  his 
crime,  and  to  have  most  bitterly  repented  it.  While  in  jail  he 
devoted  much  of  his  time  to  reading  the  Bible,  and  gave  many 
evidences  of  contrition.  He  was  sentenced  to  imprisonment 
for  life,  and  seemed  resigned  to  his  fate. 

On  December  8,  1895,  three  days  before  the  time  fixed  by 
the  governor  for  his  execution,  Harry  Hayward  wrote  a  note 
to  his  brother  Adry,  towards  whom  he  had  manifested  the 
most  intense  hatred  since  the  time  of  his  arrest,  asking  him  to 
call  and  see  him  at  the  jail,  as  he  wished  to  beg  his  forgive- 


440 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


ness.  The  terrible  words  quoted  at  the  beginning  of  this 
narrative  concluded  the  interview  that  ensued.  The  meeting 
of  the  two  brothers  was  without  witnesses,  the  guards  having 
withdrawn  some  distance  from  the  cell  door  at  the  request  of 
the  prisoner.  Their  meeting  was  friendly,  and  they  conversed 
for  some  time  in  low  tones.  At  length  the  voices  of  both  were 
raised.  Harry  had  made  some  demand  upon  his  brother,  to 
which  the  latter  replied  in  appealing  tones:  “But,  Harry,  how 
can  I?” 

This  answer  aroused  all  the  venom  in  the  wicked  heart  of 
the  depraved  murderer.  Springing  to  the  iron  grating  that 
separated  him  from  his  brother,  his  rather  handsome  face 
alternately  ashen  and  livid  from  the  intense  hatred  that  con¬ 
trolled  him,  he  poured  forth  this  bitter,  almost  demoniacal, 
tirade : 

“You  low-down,  mean,  contemptible,  miserable,  damnable 
wretch.  You  refuse  to  do  that  after  what  I  have  done  for 
you.  You  God-forsaken  tool.  You  have  played  a  good  part, 
but  now  I  can  tell  you  what  I  think  of  you.  My  letter  to  you 
was  after  all  only  a  deco3^  for  that  purpose.  You  d — d  villain. 
If  I  could  only  get  at  you,  I  would  dig  out  your  brains  with  a 
knife.  I  would  tear  out  your  heart  with  my  hands.  I  would 
crush  the  two  together,  cut  them  into  pieces,  squeeze  out  the 
juice,  make  it  into  a  pie,  and  thrust  it  down  your  throat!” 

Before  Harry’s  execution  the  two  met  again,  and  the  mur¬ 
derer  begged  his  brother’s  forgiveness,  his  intense  hatred 
seeming  to  have  passed  away.  Harry  T.  Hayward  met  his 
death  about  two  o’clock  on  the  morning  of  December  n,  1895. 
His  marvelous  nerve  did  not  desert  him  in  his  last  dreadful 
extremity.  He  made  a  long,  rambling  speech,  in  which  he 
said  good-bye  to  many  of  his  friends,  addressing  them  by 
name.  He  indulged  in  many  ghastly  pleasantries,  and  was, 
beyond  all  comparison,  the  best-collected  man  present.  Near 
the  end  he  repeated  a  brief  prayer,  asking  God  to  pardon  his 
sins.  He  explained  that  he  did  this  at  the  request  of  John 
Day  Smith,  one  of  his  counsel.  To  apologize  for  asking  the 
forgiveness  of  the  Maker  one  is  about  to  meet  is  a  performance 
almost  without  parallel.  His  last  words — “I  stand  pat” — 


HAYWARD  CASE 


441 


indicate  his  stoical  character,  and  the  frame  of  mind  in  which 
he  left  the  world,  where  he  had  cut  such  an  unworthy  figure. 

The  night  before  his  execution  Hayward  made  a  long  and 
detailed  confession  of  his  many  crimes.  In  part  this  consisted 
of  his  own  voluntary  statements,  and  in  part  of  answers  to 
numerous  questions.  This  was  made  to  his  cousin,  Edward 
H.  Goodsell,  and  J.  T.  Mannix,  of  the  Minneapolis  Times. 
It  was  taken  down  verbatim  by  Richard  A.  Mabey,  a  local 
stenographer.  Love  of  money  was  the  ruling  passion  of 
Harry  Hayward’s  heart,  and  it  maintained  its  supremacy  to 
the  end.  He  seems  to  have  had  some  affection  for  his  father 
— though  he  admitted  that  at  one  time  he  had  meditated  his 
murder.  Mr.  Hayward  had  spent  a  large  sum  of  money  in 
his  son’s  defense,  and  the  latter  suggested  that  his  confession, 
made  immediately  before  his  death,  would  bring  quite  a  sum 
to  apply  on  the  debt  he  felt  he  owed  his  parent.  This  appears 
to  have  been  the  prime  motive  for  making  his  dying  statement. 

Lack  of  space  prevents  more  than  a  general  notice  of  this 
remarkable  document,  but  enough  will  be  presented  to  show 
his  motives  for  taking  the  life  of  Catherine  Ging,  the  methods 
he  employed  to  cause  another  to  do  the  dark  deed,  and  to 
clearly  demonstrate  that  Harry  T.  Hayward  was  possessed  of 
the  homicidal  impulse,  and  that  in  a  most  pronounced  and 
indisputable  form. 

Harry  T.  Hayward  was  born  in  McCoupin  county,  Illinois, 
and  was  thirty-one  years  old  at  the  time  of  his  death.  When 
he  was  a  year  old  his  parents  removed  to  Minneapolis,  where 
he  was  raised  and  educated,  and  where  he  spent  the  greater 
portion  of  his  life.  He  was  acquisitive  from  his  childhood. 
“Money,”  he  declared,  by  way  of  introduction  to  his  last 
statement,  “has  always  been  my  god.” 

Gambling  was  the  special  sin  that  sent  Harry  Hayward  to 
the  scaffold.  He  says  that  in  his  youth  he  was  never  addicted 
to  stealing,  but  began  gambling  when  about  twenty  years  of 
age,  frequenting  public  gaming  houses  for  that  purpose.  At 
first  he  went  only  at  long  intervals,  and  never  played  to  win 
over  two  dollars.  The  habit  soon  became  fixed  upon  him, 
however,  and  drove  him  into  evil  courses  which  led  him  to 


442 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


commit  murder.  While  still  young,  he  became  a  good  deal  of 
a  rover,  visiting  various  sections  of  the  country,  particularly 
the  South  and  West 

His  first  serious  crime  was  committed  near  San  Antonio, 
Texas,  in  December,  1884.  There  he  had  a  liaison  with  a 
Spanish  girl,  and,  being  assaulted  by  her  brother,  shot  and 
seriously  wounded  him.  The  girl  had  money  which  he 
determined  to  possess,  but  he  was  obliged  to  leave  without 
securing  it,  on  account  of  the  affray. 

Probably  the  first  murder  of  Hayward  was  committed  at 
Pasadena,  Cal.  His  first  victim,  like  his  last,  was  a  woman,  a 
friendless  girl  about  twenty  years  of  age,  whom  he  had  known 
but  a  few  days,  having  met  her  at  a  public  dance.  This  girl, 
whose  name  the  murderer  did  not  give,  had  some  seven  hun¬ 
dred  dollars  that  she  had  inherited  from  her  father.  Hayward 
learned  that  she  had  this  money  in  the  bank,  and  induced  her 
to  draw  it  out  and  give  it  to  him,  for  investment,  the  arrange¬ 
ment  being  that  he  was  to  marry  her.  When  he  decided  to 
kill  her,  he  already  had  the  money  in  his  possession,  but  as  she 
knew  his  real  name  and  residence,  he  was  fearful  that  she 
might  make  him  trouble.  His  plan  formed,  he  secured  a  con¬ 
veyance  and  drove  out  with  the  girl  to  the  Sierra  Madre  Valley, 
some  six  miles  from  Pasadena.  He  murdered  her  there  by 
shooting  her  in  the  back  of  the  head,  so  that  he  might  not  see 
her  face  after  she  was  dead.  He  said  that  his  theory  had 
always  been  that  murderers  were  often  haunted  by  visions  of 
the  distorted  faces  of  their  victims,  and  so  driven  to  con¬ 
fession. 

The  deed  done,  he  dug  a  shallow  grave  with  a  piece  of 
board,  and  hid  her  body  from  his  sight.  She  seems  to  have 
haunted,  or  at  least  troubled  him,  however,  for,  a  few  days 
later,  according  to  his  solemn  confession,  he  hired  a  man  in 
Los  Angeles  to  go  out  with  him,  disinter  the  remains,  and  put 
them  in  a  box,  which  he  took  along  for  that  purpose.  This 
box  was  to  be  brought  back  to  Los  Angeles,  weighted  and 
sunk  in  the  bay.  Whether  this  was  actually  done  he  was  not 
certain,  though  he  paid  the  man  one  hundred  dollars  for  the 
service, 


HAYWARD  CASE 


443 


Upon  his  return  home  from  California  he  became  an  incen¬ 
diary,  firing  several  buildings,  among  others  a  house  that 
stood  upon  the  ground  where  the  Ozark  flats  were  afterward 
built.  He  did  this  because  he  wanted  his  father  to  put  up  a 
fine  new  building,  and  knew  that  the  removal  of  the  old  one, 
which  was  fully  insured,  would  facilitate  matters. 

He  admitted  that  he  had  planned  murders  that  he  never 
carried  into  execution ;  among  them  that  of  a  young  lady  in 
Minneapolis,  who  was  possessed  of  two  thousand  dollars,  and 
his  cousin,  Edward  H.  Goodsell,  who  had  a  like  amount.  He 
spoke  of  these  matters  as  if  they  were  ordinary  business 
transactions.  He  had  attempted  to  get  his  father  to  make  a 
will  largely  in  his  favor,  his  intention  being  to  murder  him. 
On  this  point  he  said,  repeating  what  he  had  recently  told  his 
father:  “I  had  kind  of  sized  things  up  in  my  mind,  and  had 
figured  on  you  like  that.”  And  he  added:  “But  I  told  him 
no,  I  wouldn’t  do  it,  on  account  of  liking  to  see  him  around, 
you  know ;  and  I  wanted  him  around,  and  my  mother  the  same 
way.  ’  ’ 

In  the  course  of  his  statement  he  described  a  bull-fight,  as 
he  had  seen  it  in  Havana.  The  recollection  of  the  horrid 
scene,  where  bulls  and  horses  were  killed  and  several  men 
badly  injured,  seemed  to  give  him  intense  satisfaction.  This, 
in  the  author’s  opinion,  is  a  modification  of  the  genuine  homi¬ 
cidal  impulse.  Harry  Hayward  undoubtedly  delighted  in 
suffering  and  murder. 

By  1892  gambling  had  become  the  ruling  passion  of  his  life, 
and  it  was  this,  coupled  no  doubt  with  an  inherent  desire  to 
kill,  that  made  him  a  murderer.  At  times  he  needed  money 
to  make  good  the  losses  he  had  sustained,  and  also  that  he 
might  indulge  in  his  favorite  pastime.  In  the  fall  of  that  year 
he  was  in  New  York,  gambling.  He  won  some  money  and 
decided  to  go  to  Monte  Carlo,  but  finally  gave  it  up.  At  this 
time  he  committed  another  murder.  This  was  at  Long 
Branch,  his  victim  being  a  man  in  poor  health,  who  talked  a 
good  deal  of  committing  suicide.  As  he  was  possessed  of 
some  two  thousand  dollars,  Harry  decided  to  become  philan¬ 
thropic  and  save  him  the  trouble  of  taking  his  own  life.  He 


444 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


shot  this  man  in  the  woods  near  Long  Branch,  and  disposed 
of  his  body  so  that  the  tide  would  carry  it  out  to  sea.  He 
meditated  killing  two  others  at  this  time,  but  did  not  carry  his 
plans  into  execution. 

In  1893  he  was  again  in  New  York,  at  which  time  he  mur¬ 
dered  a  Chinaman  in  a  most  brutal  manner.  He  entered  a 
gambling-house,  in  the  Chinese  section  of  the  city,  and  began 
to  play.  Finally,  he  cpiarreled  with  one  of  the  Chinamen  and 
knocked  him  down.  His  own  description  of  this  affair  clearly 
shows  the  satisfaction  he  felt  in  recalling  it.  “I  knocked  him 
down  with  my  fist  or  hand,”  he  said.  “I  kicked  him  in  the 
belly,  and  I  took  the  round  of  a  chair — it  wasn’t  as  large  as 
that  one  there,  it  was  a  small  round ;  it  was  a  little  smaller 
than  this — I  mean  the  leg  of  this  chair.  And  he  was  down  and 
he  was  howling,  and  I  took  it  in  my  hand  and  jabbed  the 
corner  in  his  eye,  and  his  skull  was  kind  of  thin  and  I  kind  of 
sided  it  up  to  the  top  of  his  head  and  smashed  it  down  in 
there,  and  I  got  on  the  chair  and  sat  on  it,  and  you  know  it 
went  through,  went  down  into  him.” 

When  it  is  understood  that  he  interrupted  himself  with 
laughing,  during  this  and  other  horrid  recitals,  there  can 
remain  no  doubt  but  what  he  really  delighted  in  taking  human 
life.  The  death  of  the  Chinaman  caused  a  regular  stampede 
on  the  part  of  the  inmates  of  the  den,  during  which  he  made 
hfs  escape.  Harry  Hayward  was  a  great  liar,  and  it  is  possible 
that  some  of  his  statements,  though  made  almost  at  the  foot  of 
the  scaffold,  were  either  false  or  at  least  exaggerated.  But, 
whether  true  or  false,  they  seem  to  clearly  establish  the  fact 
that  he  was  a  victim  of  the  homicidal  impulse. 

But  it  was  that  portion  of  his  statement  concerning  the 
Ging  murder  that  excited  the  greatest  interest,  and  it  is  this 
that  most  clearly  shows  the  real  character  of  the  despicable 
wretch,  whose  god  was  money,  and  who  placed  a  most  trifling 
value  upon  human  life.  Hayward  appears  to  have  had  a  de¬ 
cided  penchant  for  robbing  and  murdering  young  women. 
He  said  that  his  plan  for  winning  their  confidence  was  to  treat 
them  with  great  respect,  making  no  attempt  at  undue  fa¬ 
miliarity.  He  declared,  and  probably  told  the  truth,  that  he 


HAYWARD  CASE 


445 


never  sustained  any  relations,  other  than  those  of  a  strictly 
business  character,  with  Catherine  Ging. 

According  to  his  story,  he  formed  the  acquaintance  of  the 
dressmaker,  who  occupied  apartments  in  his  father’s  building, 
and  who  was  possessed  of  considerable  means,  in  January, 
1894.  Like  many  other  women,  Miss  Ging  was  strongly 
inclined  to  speculation,  and  young  Hayward  was  just  the  man 
to  make  investments  for  her.  In  this  manner  he  secured 
from  her  several  thousand  dollars,  which  he  spent  in  carousing 
and  gambling.  He  seems  to  have  acquired  a  decided  control 
over  her  from  the  first,  else  she  would  not  have  been  satisfied 
with  the  explanations  he  offered  as  to  the  failure  of  his 
schemes  and  the  loss  of  her  money.  By  August,  1894,  he  had 
secured  all  her  ready  money,  and,  being  in  pressing  need  of 
funds,  burned  a  mill  a  little  distance  from  the  city,  upon  which 
she  held  a  mortgage  for  twelve  hundred  dollars.  This  was 
secured  by  an  insurance  policy.  He  tried  to  induce  his 
brother  Adry  to  join  him  in  this  criminal  enterprise,  but  failed 
to  do  so.  The  policy  was  paid,  and  Harry  secured  the  major 
portion  of  the  money,  though  he  denounced  her  bitterly  in  his 
confession  for  not  giving  him  all  of  it.  When  asked  how  he 
managed  to  secure  all  this  money,  he  made  the  following 
reply: 

“Now,  here  is  where  you  have  got  to  believe  in  hypnotism 
a  little  bit.  I  would  explain  to  her  that  I  had  stuff  out  in  New 
York,  some  diamonds;  and  I  would  explain  that  in  such  a 
complicated  way  that  I  couldn’t  understand  it  myself.  You 
think  of  a  thing  that  is  so  simple  and  you  can  see  through  it, 
but  you  take  a  complicated  thing,  and  it  captivates  people 
more,  they  think  there  must  be  something  to  it.  Well,  I 
explained  it  around  a  little,  and  she  is  one  of  this  kind  to  say, 
yes,  she  understood  it;  at  the  same  time  I  couldn’t  understand 
it  myself.  ’’ 

It  was  at  this  time  that  he  formulated  a  scheme  for  murder¬ 
ing  her.  He  used  these  mysterious  diamonds  as  a  means  of 
entrapping  her  into  taking  out  life  insurance  policies  in  his 
favor  for  ten  thousand  dollars.  Hayward  was  to  beat  the 
owner  out  of  the  gems,  and  he  and  Miss  Ging  were  to  be 


446 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


partners  in  the  enterprise.  He  was  to  secure  the  diamonds 
and  sell  them  to  her  for  seven  thousand  dollars.  The  whole 
transaction  was  a  scheme  to  prevent  the  real  owner  from 
recovering  them  from  Hayward.  No  money  was  to  be  paid, 
but  it  was  to  be  given  out  that  Hayward  had  loaned  her  the 
money  to  make  the  purchase.  To  make  everything  look  regu¬ 
lar  on  its  face,  she  was  to  assign  the  policies  on  her  life  to  him 
as  security  for  the  imaginary  loan.  It  seems  almost  incredible 
that  a  shrewd  woman  could  have  been  so  easily  deceived, 
unless  we  adopt  the  murderer’s  theory  and  admit  that  he 
hypnotized  her.  Perhaps  her  eyes  were  dazzled  by  the  expec¬ 
tation  of  possessing  diamonds  worth  a  large  sum  of  money. 
The  insurance  policies  secured,  nothing  remained  to  be  done 
but  the — to  him — trifling  matter  of  murdering  the  dressmaker. 

Hayward  declared  that  Miss  Ging  was  at  times  very  sus¬ 
picious,  and  acted  in  a  most  unreasonable  manner.  She 
refused  to  sign  the  notes  for  the  imaginary  loan,  without  some 
consideration  being-  shown,  and  he  finally  gave  her  seven 
thousand  dollars  to  count,  five  thousand  of  which  was  counter¬ 
feit.  The  counting  completed,  he  pretended  to  seal  the 
money  up  in  envelopes  for  her,  adroitly  substituting  pieces  of 
paper. 

Hayward  admitted  that  he  had  had  some  talk  with  his 
brother  Adry  about  the  murder,  but  declared  that  the  latter 
was  entirely  innocent  of  any  complicity  in  the  commission  of 
the  crime.  Having  decided  to  use  Blixt  as  his  tool,  he  set 
about  gaining  control  over  him.  His  account  of  the  process 
he  employed  cannot  but  prove  interesting.  To  the  average 
mind  it  appears  a  little  unreasonable,  but  not  more  so  than 
any  other  theory  that  has  been  advanced  to  account  for  the 
strange  relations  between  the  two  men. 

“This  is  what  will  make  the  strange  part  of  the  book,” 
said  Harry,  when  asked  about  Blixt.  “Is  there  such  a  thing 
as  hypnotism?  I  have  hypnotized  Blixt  and  also  Kate  Ging. 
I  started  with  Blixt  by  taking  a  pile  of  money  out  of  my 
pocket.  I  didn’t  mean  to  get  him  into  an  epileptic  state,  but 
talked  money,  and  drew  his  attention,  and  when  you  can 
branch  him  from  one  thing  to  another,  from  a  newspaper  to  a 


HAYWARD  CASH 


447 


hammer,  for  instance,  move  him  every  time,  you  have  got 
him,  and  you  can  go  on  and  talk  later  on  about  killing  people. 
Say,  ‘Why,  it  is  nothing;  just  like  killing  mice.’  Well,  it 
makes  an  impression  on  him,  and  he  believes  it,  and  I  labored 
systematically  with  Blixt  in  that  way,  with  money,  dwelling 
upon  the  importance  of  having  the  stuff  and  getting  it  easy.  I 
would  say:  ‘Well,  there  was  nothing  in  killing  people;  kill  a 
rat  just  as  well.  What  is  the  difference — they  are  dead?’  and 
Blixt  would  say,  ‘Certainly,  it  don’t  make  any  difference.’  I 
was  trying  Blixt.  I  was  trying  to  haunt  him.  I  said,  ‘Sup¬ 
posing  she  comes  back  dead  and  gets  in  the  elevator  and  shook 
her  hand?’  Blixt  says,  ‘I  will  ride  over  fifty  of  them — an 
elevator  full  of  them.  ’  He  felt  that  way,  too,  at  the  time 
being.  Most  of  this  talk  was  in  the  basement.  I  didn’t  pay 
any  attention  to  him  until  a  month  before  in  this  line.  I  saw 
that  he  was  a  good  subject,  because  you  can  help  it  along  by 
flattery.  He  was  very  susceptible  to  flattery,  and  I  knew  that 
money  would  bring  him.  He  seemed  to  like  to  talk  on  the  sub¬ 
ject,  and  was  glad  to  have  me  come  down  to  the  basement.” 

Hayward  claimed  that  he  had  the  engineer  so  completely 
under  his  control  that  he  would  have  killed  any  one  he  ordered 
him  to.  Not  long  before  Hayward’s  execution,  and  after 
Blixt  had  been  sent  to  the  penitentiary  at  Stillwater,  the  latter 
made  a  statement  to  the  effect  that,  on  the  night  of  the  mur¬ 
der,  Hayward  gave  him  whisky  which  contained  nitro¬ 
glycerine,  and  that  the  effect  of  this  poison  deprived  him  of  all 
free-will,  and  compelled  him  to  do  the  bidding  of  Hayward. 
Quite  an  elaborate  theory  was  constructed  on  this  statement. 
The  dose  administered  was  sufficient  to  compel  him  to  obey 
instructions  for  an  hour  or  so,  and  then  deprive  him  of  life. 
Blixt  claimed  that  Hayward  had  told  him  to  bring  away  the 
woman’s  sealskin  sacque  and  be  careful  not  to  lose  his  revol¬ 
ver.  According  to  these  rather  sensational  theorists,  Blixt 
was  to  commit  the  crime  and  then  die  suddenly,  with  the 
revolver  and  sacque  as  his  mute  but  unanswerable  accusers. 
Harry  laughed  when  questioned  about  this,  and  declared  that 
there  was  nothing  in  it,  that  he  gave  the  engineer  whisky,  but 
that  it  contained  no  nitroglycerine,  or  other  drug. 


44^ 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


He  talked  the  matter  over  many  times  with  Blixt,  propos¬ 
ing  various  plots.  He  said  he  did  this  because  two  heads 
were  better  than  one  and  he  wanted  to  get  suggestions  from 
his  accomplice  as  to  the  practicability  of  the  different  plans. 

For  the  same  reason  he  talked  about  the  matter  with  his 

% 

brother  Adry.  He  declared  that  on  the  night  of  Saturday, 
December  i,  1894,  two  days  before  the  murder,  he  had  driven 
out  with  Miss  Ging,  his  intention  being  to  kill  her  himself. 
He  took  with  him  a  piece  of  T-rail  that  had  been  bought  for 
use  in  the  furnace  of  the  Ozark  flats,  with  which  to  do  the 
deed.  His  heart  did  not  fail  him — he  was  anxious  to  kill  her  v 
— but  no  favorable  opportunity  presented  itself.  When  asked 
whether  he  really  felt  an  impulse  to  murder  that  night,  he 
replied: 

“Oh,  yes.  There  is  where  I  tell  you  I  can  understand  about 
the  San  Francisco  murderer,  Durant.  I  could  have  taken  her 
by  the  throat,  you  know,  and  choked  her,  with  some  sort  of 
satisfaction  in  it  many  a  time  and  just  laugh  at  it.’’ 

Hayward  had  told  Miss  Ging  that  more  than  half  the 
money  in  circulation  was  counterfeit,  and  that  even  the  banks 
couldn’t  tell  the  difference.  The  ride  on  the  Saturday  night 
and  the  one  on  Monday  evening  following  were  taken  under 
the  pretext  that  they  could  secure  a  large  quantity  of  “green 
goods’’  from  a  band  of  counterfeiters,  who  were  domiciled  near 
Lake  Calhoun.  The  whole  thing  was  a  mystery  to  the  young 
woman,  and  Hayward  claimed  that  his  success  was  due  to 
this  very  circumstance.  On  the  fatal  night,  when  he  left  the 
buggy  and  turned  her  over  to  the  care  of  the  actual  murderer, 
he  whispered  to  her  that  they  would  surely  make  the  stake — 
meaning  that  they  would  secure  the  counterfeit  money.  Just 
before  Blixt  came  up  he  said  to  her: 

“I  have  never  told  you,  but  here  is  Blixt,  the  engineer. 
We  have  to  keep  him  in  disguise,  but  the  man  is  rich.  Blixt 
is  rich,  and  is  just  working  there  for  a  disguise.  Anything 
he  says  is  all  right,  but  I  can’t  stop  long  to  ask  any  question. 
He  will  take  you  out,  and  I  will  meet  you  out  there.’’ 

In  answer  to  questions  as  to  his  motives  in  taking  the  girl’s 
life  he  declared  that  it  was  the  desire  to  secure  the  insurance 


HAYWARD  CASE 


449 


money,  coupled  with  hatred.  He  said  that  he  often  felt 
impelled  to  choke  her.  When  it  is  remembered  that  he  had 
secured  all  the  money  that  she  possessed,  and  that  she  was  com¬ 
pletely  under  his  control,  the  nature  of  the  hatred  he  felt  for  her 
is  somewhat  difficult  to  understand.  It  seems  highly  probable 
that  his  hatred  was  more  imaginary  than  real;  a  justification 
to  himself  of  the  crime  he  was  about  to  commit  in  obedience 
to  the  controlling  motives  of  cupidity  and  the  desire  to  kill. 

After  Hayward’s  execution  a  mole  was  found  under  his  left 
ear,  in  popular  superstition  an  indication  that  he  was  to  be 
hanged.  In  this  connection,  a  remark  made  by  him  towards 
the  close  of  his  confession  becomes  decidedly  interesting: 
“Well,  this  murder  was  on  my  mind,  sitting  by  the  side  of  her, 
perhaps  holding  her  hands;  not  much  spooning,  because  I 
didn’t  have  much  heart  for  that,  you  know;  as  little  as  could 
be.  When  she  sat  down  with  me,  time  and  again,  four  or  five 
different  times,  somebody  had  told  her  something,  and  she 
would  put  her  finger  on  me  this  way — it  comes  back  to  me 
now — and  say,  ‘Harry,  here  is  where  the  hangman’s  knot  goes,’ 
putting  her  finger  under  the  left  ear.  Thinks  I,  if  she  only 
knew  what  was  in  my  mind,  it  would  be  more  real.’’ 

In  answer  to  a  question  as  to  whether  he  had  not  become  a 
murderer  by  reason  of  his  passion  for  money  and  gambling,  he 
replied,  concluding  his  long  and  remarkable  confession,  as 
follows : 

“Well,  I  suppose  that  is  it,  but  don’t  put  me  on  record  as 
sorry.  The  idea  is  I  have  made  my  bed,  and  I  am  willing  to 
lie  in  it  without  a  kick,  and  to  quote  these  lines,  which  have 
been  of  much  satisfaction  to  me,  from  Dryden : 

“  ‘Happy  the  man,  and  happy  he  alone, 

He  who  can  call  to-day  his  own ; 

He  who  sincere  within  can  say, 

To-morrow  do  thy  worst,  for  I  have  lived  to-day.  * 

You  see  that  fits  the  scaffold  here. 

“  ‘Come  fair,  or  foul,  or  rain,  or  shine, 

The  joys  I  have  possessed,  in  spite  of  fate,  are  mine, 

Not  heaven  itself  over  the  past  hath  power, 

But  what  has  been,  has  been,  and  I  have  had  my  hour.’  ” 


45° 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


A  post-mortem  examination  of  the  brain  of  Harry  T. 
Hayward  is  said  to  have  clearly  shown  that  he  was  a  degenerate 
with  born  predilections  to  crime.  That  he  was  insane  in  the 
ordinary  acceptation  of  the  term  seems  altogether  out  of  the 
question,  though  it  is  equally  clear  that  he  had  completely 
resigned  himself  to  his  evil  passions  and  the  impulse  to  take 
human  life. 


CHAPTER  XXV 


THEODORE  DURANT,  THE  SAN  FRANCISCO 

MONSTER 

Fact  is  often  stronger  than  fiction ;  beyond  that,  it  is  fre¬ 
quently  more  brutal.  The  horrors  of  “The  Murders  in  the 
Rue  Morgue,”  “Oliver  Twist,”  “Dr.  Jekyl  and  Mr.  Hyde,” 
even,  find  their  counterpart,  are  surpassed  really,  by  those  of 
the  Durant  murders,  perpetrated  in  San  Francisco  early  in 
1895.  The  wildest  invention  of  a  Stephenson,  a  Dickens  or  a 
Poe,  never  developed  the  awful  climaxes  of  this  Tragedy  in 
Real  Life.  The  nearest  resemblance  is  found  in  the  “Hunch¬ 
back  of  Notre  Dame,”  who  leaped  nimbly  among  the  huge 
rafters  of  the  old  cathedral  and  fiercely  clanged  the  bells ;  for 
Durant  committed  his  murders  within  the  sacred  precincts  of 
a  house  dedicated  to  the  worship  of  God.  Ugly  and  deformed, 
Quasamoda  possessed  a  kindly  heart,  while  Theodore  Durant — 
tall,  handsome,  athletic — was  a  devil  incarnate,  as  much  under 
the  control  of  the  foul  fiend  as  was  the  hunchback’s  master 
and  benefactor,  the  abbe,  when  he  gave  over  the  beautiful 
young  gypsy  to  be  hanged  as  a  sorceress. 

The  case  of  Durant  is,  in  some  respects,  unique  in  the  his¬ 
tory  of  crime.  The  awful  character  of  the  deeds,  the  motives 
that  led  to  them,  the  place  where  they  were  committed,  the 
disposition  of  the  remains,  the  remarkable  methods  adopted  in 
secreting  the  clothing  of  one  of  the  victims,  the  youth  and 
beauty  of  the  murdered  girls,  the  wonderful  self-possession  of 
the  brutal  murderer,  his  previous  good  character  and  religious 
professions,  his  remarkable  perversion,  the  circumstantial  evi¬ 
dence  that  fastened  the  crimes  upon  him,  the  fury  of  the 
populace — all  these,  and  other  matters,  characterized  this  case 
as  one  of  the  most  peculiar  of  all  that  have  ever  occurred  in 
America. 


451 


I 


452  MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 

Theodore  Durant  was  a  native  of  California,  having  been 
born  in  San  Francisco,  near  the  scenes  of  his  crimes,  in  1871. 
Although  a  most  depraved  wretch,  he  came  from  excellent 
people,  his  family  having  long  been  a  very  respectable  one. 
He  was  not  married,  but  lived  with  his  parents.  In  appear¬ 
ance,  Theodore  was  tall  and  well  developed,  though  of  a  some¬ 
what  slender  build.  He  was  quite  generally  accounted 
handsome,  but  his  face  was  almost  unnaturally  pale,  and  his 
cheek-bones  high  and  prominent.  His  eyes  were  his  worst 
feature;  they  were  light  blue,  and  possessed  a  certain  fish-like 
glassiness.  Durant  was  much  stronger  than  his  appearance 
indicated,  being  decidedly  athletic.  He  was  a  member  of  the 
Second  Brigade  Signal  Corps,  and  at  the  time  the  crimes  were 
committed  was  a  student  of  the  Cooper  Medical  College,  in  San 
Francisco,  where  he  had  been  about  a  year.  Durant  was  quite 
a  society  man,  mingling  with  a  good  class,  most  of  them  being 
church-people.  He  was  a  member  of  Emanuel  Baptist 
Church,  on  Bartlett  street.  He  took  a  very  active  part  in 
church  matters,  being  a  good  deal  about  the  church.  He  was 
assistant  superintendent  of  the  Sunday-school,  church  libra¬ 
rian,  and  secretary  of  the  Young  People’s  Society.  He  was 
foremost  in  church  sociables  and  other  entertainments. 
Taken  altogether,  Theodore  was  a  popular  young  man,  his  life 
had  always  been  regular,  so  far  as  known,  he  was  well 
regarded  by  the  church-people,  and  was  fairly  bright  and 
active  in  his  professional  studies. 

The  victims  of  Durant’s  lust  and  homicidal  impulse  were 
two  young  and  beautiful  girls,  Blanche  Lamont,  and  Minnie 
Williams.  The  former  was  a  striking  brunette,  while  the 
latter  was  a  very  attractive  blonde.  Both  girls  were  large 
and  well  developed  for  their  years.  They  were  devoted 
friends,  and,  being  much  together,  each  shone  by  contrast 
with  the  other.  They  both  attended  the  Emanuel  Baptist 
Church,  mingled  in  the  young  society  of  the  congregation,  and 
were  well  acquainted  with  Durant. 

Blanche  Lamont  was  about  eighteen  years  of  age.  She 
was  born  at  Rockford,  Ill.,  being  the  daughter  of  David 
Lamont.  While  yet  a  young  girl  she  removed  to  Dillon, 


THEODORE  DURANT 


453 


Mont.,  with  her  father,  where  the  latter  died  in  1891.  Early 
in  1894,  being-  in  delicate  health,  she  went  to  San  Francisco  to 
an  aunt  named  Mrs.  Charles  Noble,  with  whom  she  was  living 
at  the  time  of  her  death.  She  was  a  student  of  a  city  normal 
school.  Minnie  Williams  was  only  about  seventeen  years  old. 
She  had  formerly  lived  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Emanuel 
Baptist  Church.  Upon  the  separation  of  her  parents,  not  long 
before  the  tragedy,  she  went  across  the  bay  and  made  her 
home  with  friends  named  Morgan,  in  Alameda,  her  idea  being 
to  find  employment.  The  Morgan  family  were  preparing  to 
leave  for  Tacoma,  and  on  April  12,  1895,  Minnie  removed  her 
belongings  to  the  house  of  a  Mrs.  Voy,  near  the  church. 
Blanche  Lamont  was  a  decidedly  handsome  girl,  and  attracted 
attention  wherever  she  appeared.  These  beautiful  and  intel¬ 
ligent  girls,  universally  respected  and  beloved,  just  entering 
upon  the  full  bloom  of  womanhood,  with  bright  and  happy 
prospects,  were  destined  to  die  at  the  hands  of  a  cruel,  per¬ 
verted  wretch. 

The  third  leading  factor  in  the  awful  tragedies  was  the  Bap¬ 
tist  Emanuel  Church.  It  was  a  large,  red,  wooden  structure, 
and  was  widely  known  to  San  Francisco  people.  Churches 
stand  for  morality  and  salvation,  their  taper  spires  pointing 
silently,  but  most  eloquently,  the  way  to  heaven.  None  of  us 
are  pleased  with  the  sight  of  a  signboard  that  indicates  a  path 
we  are  most  loath  to  follow.  Millions  in  this  country  entertain 
no  kindly  feelings  towards  churches  for  much  the  same 
reasons.  Hence  it  is  that  the  wrong-doings  of  church  people 
are  much  more  talked  about,  and  that  with  greater  relish,  than 
their  noble  acts  of  charity,  self-sacrifice,  and  genuine  piety. 
The  sacred  edifice  in  question  was  popularly  known  to  those 
who  tabooed  all  forms  of  worship,  as  the  “Hoodoo  Church.” 
This  appellation  was  not  altogether  unmerited.  It  had  been 
struck  by  lightning,  its  trustees  had  once  defaulted,  and  one 
of  its  former  pastors  had  committed  suicide,  after  killing  the 
proprietor  of  a  newspaper.  The  phrase,  “Burn  it  down,”  had 
been  uttered  by  thousands  of  people,  so  much  was  it  disliked. 
The  section  of  the  city  where  it  stands  was  originally  in  the 
Mission  Dolores,  founded  by  friars  a  full  hundred  years  ago, 


454 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


and  is  yet  spoken  of  as  “The  Mission.”  A  still  darker 
notoriety  awaited  the  old  wooden  structure,  destined  to  prac¬ 
tically  destroy  its  usefulness. 

April  3,  1895,  Blanche  Lamont  disappeared  from  view. 
Her  aunt  at  once  reported  the  matter  to  the  police,  and  dili¬ 
gent  search  was  made  for  her,  without  the  slightest  results 
being  obtained.  Mrs.  Noble  was  unable  to  throw  any  light 
upon  the  matter;  so  far  as  she  knew,  Blanche  had  no  lover, 
and  she  was  positive  that  the  girl  had  not  eloped.  The 
inquiry  led  to  some  revelations  that  afterward  proved  of 
decided  value.  It  was  learned  that  the  missing  girl  had 
been  quite  intimately  acquainted  with  Theodore  Durant,  also 
that  she  was  a  devoted  and  inseparable  friend  of  Minnie  Wil¬ 
liams,  who,  however,  was,  or  professed  to  be,  altogether  in  the 
dark  as  to  her  friend’s  whereabouts.  Whether  she  suspected 
the  young  medical  student  of  knowing  anything  about  the 
matter  is  uncertain,  though  many  believe  that  she  had  serious 
suspicions,  and  that  they  led  to  her  own  death.  For  a  few 
days  the  newspapers  contained  items  about  the  matter,  but 
these  decreased  in  size,  and  soon  ceased  altogether.  In  the 
meantime,  Durant  not  only  denied  all  knowledge  of  the  where¬ 
abouts  of  the  missing  girl,  but  was  constantly  making  sug¬ 
gestions,  always  claiming  that  she  would  soon  turn  up.  To 
some  he  hinted  that  Blanche  had  gone  astray,  and  would 
appear  in  some  disreputable  connection. 

But  an  awful  revelation  was  at  hand.  On  Saturday,  April 
13th,  the  day  before  Easter  Sunday,  some  ladies  repaired  to 
the  Emanuel  Baptist  Church  to  decorate  it  for  the  great  Chris¬ 
tian  festival.  After  a  time  they  passed  from  the  auditorium 
into  the  library,  where  they  sat  down.  Opening  out  of  it  was 
a  small  room,  little  more  than  a  closet,  where  some  books  were 
kept,  and  which  the  pastor  sometimes  used  as  a  study.  One 
of  the  ladies  opened  the  door  of  this  miniature  apartment,  only 
to  stagger  back  with  horror  and  affright  depicted  upon  her 
face.  The  force  of  the  awful  shock  having  somewhat  abated, 
the  terrified  ladies  approached  and  inspected  the  closet.  Upon 
the  floor,  horribly  mutilated  and  covered  with  blood,  lay  the 
body  of  a  girl  whom  they  at  once  recognized  as  Minnie  Williams, 


THEODORE  DURANT 


455 


The  police  were  promptly  notified,  and  an  immense 
throng  soon  congregated  about  the  church.  Evidences  of  a 
great  struggle  were  apparent;  the  poor  girl  had  not  parted  with 
life  and  honor  without  making  an  almost  superhuman  effort  to 
retain  them.  Her  clothing  was  torn  and  disheveled.  She  had 
been  gagged,  and  that  in  a  manner  indicative  of  a  fiend  rather 
than  a  man.  A  portion  of  her  underclothing  had  been  thrust 
down  her  throat  with  a  stick,  her  tongue  being  terribly 
lacerated  by  the  operation.  A  cut  across  her  wrist  had 
severed  both  arteries  and  tendons.  This  wound  had  evidently 
been  inflicted  with  a  sharp  instrument.  She  had  been  stabbed 
in  each  breast,  and  directly  over  her  heart  was  a  deep  cut  in 
which  a  portion  of  a  broken  knife  remained.  This  was  an 
ordinary  silver  table-knife,  one  of  those  used  in  the  church  at 
entertainments  where  refreshments  were  served.  It  was 
round  at  the  end,  and  so  dull  that  great  force  must  have  been 
used  to  inflict  the  fearful  wounds;  indeed,  it  appeared  that  the 
cold-blooded  wretch  had  deliberately  unfastened  his  victim’s 
dress  that  the  knife  might  penetrate  her  flesh.  The  little 
room  was  covered  with  blood,  but  not  a  stain  was  discovered 
in  the  library,  showing  that  the  knife  had  been  wielded  in  the 
inner  apartment.  The  theory  is  that  the  murderer  succeeded 
in  overpowering  and  choking  the  poor  girl  into  insensibility  in 
the  auditorium  of  the  church,  after  which  he  dragged  her 
through  the  library  and  completed  his  work,  which  no  power 
short  of  that  derived  from  the  devil  himself,  could  have 
prompted  him  to  do.  In  making  his  way  from  the  auditorium 
to  the  library,  he  broke  the  lock  of  the  door  that  connected  the 
two  apartments. 

On  the  evening  preceding  the  discovery  of  the  remains 
there  was  a  meeting  of  the  Young  People’s  Society  at  the 
residence  of  Dr.  Vogel,  not  far  from  the  church.  Minnie  Wil¬ 
liams  was  expected  to  be  there.  Shortly  after  seven  o’clock 
that  evening  she  left  Mrs.  Voy’s,  remarking  that  she  was 
going  to  the  meeting,  and  taking  a  latch-key  with  her.  At 
about  the  same  hour  Durant  left  his  home,  which  was  in  the 
same  vicinity,  with  the  announced  purpose  of  going  to  Dr. 
Vogel’s.  He  was  seen  about  eight  o’clock  by  a  young  man 


45  6 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


who,  like  himself,  was  a  member  of  the  signal  corps,  and 
some  conversation  ensued  relative  to  a  trip  the  corps  was  to 
make  the  next  day.  He  did  not  present  himself  at  Dr. 
Vogel’s  until  nine-thirty  o’clock.  When  he  did  it  was  noticed, 
and  afterwards  recalled,  that  his  hair  was  disarranged,  his  face 
whiter  even  than  usual,  and  covered  with  perspiration.  Upon 
entering  the  house,  which  was  thronged  with  company,  the 
first  thing  he  did  was  to  beg  permission  to  wash  his  hands. 
He  was  not  long  in  recovering  his  composure,  and  during  the 
remainder  of  the  evening  none  laughed  more  merrily  or 
entered  more  heartily  into  the  sports  and  merriments  than 
Theodore  Durant.  So  perfect  was  his  acting — if  indeed  he  felt 
anything  like  remorse  for  the  diabolical  deed  he  had  just  com¬ 
mitted — that  not  a  suspicion  was  aroused;  indeed,  many  of 
those  present  at  first  refused  to  believe  in  his  guilt  on  the 
ground  that  a  murderer,  just  from  the  disfigured  remains  of 
his  victim,  could  not  have  conducted  himself  as  Theodore 
Durant  did  that  evening.  On  general  principles  the  point  was 
well  taken;  not  one  man  in  thousands,  of  his  age  and  ante¬ 
cedents,  could  have  acted  the  part  he  did.  But  Durant  was 
that  one  man.  His  character  was  as  double  as  that  of  Dr. 
Jekyl.  His  most  intimate  friends  regarded  him  as  a  good- 
natured,  amiable,  interesting  young  man ;  and  not  one  in  all 
the  city  had  the  slightest  conception  of  the  diabolical  disposi¬ 
tion — worse  than  Anton  Probst’s,  and  fully  equaling  that  of 
“Jack  the  Ripper’’ — which  he  masked  behind  his  white  and 
smiling  face.  After  leaving  the  social  gathering  he  was  seen 
to  enter  the  church.  This  was  nothing  unusual,  since  he 
carried  a  key  to  the  edifice,  and  spent  a  good  deal  of  his  time 
upon  the  premises,  where  he  was  regarded  in  the  light  of  a 
general  utility  man,  making  little  repairs  and  being  decidedly 
useful.  Early  the  following  morning,  long  before  the  murder 
was  discovered,  he  started  with  his  comrades  of  the  signal 
corps  for  Mount  Diablo,  fifty  miles  away. 

A  number  of  circumstances  pointed  to  the  young  student  as 
the  murderer.  He  was  known  to  have  been  on  very  friendly 
terms  with  Miss  Williams,  and  had  been  seen  with  her  on  the 
street-car  the  afternoon  before  the  murder.  On  Friday  after- 


THEODORE  DURANT 


457 


noon  he  was  noticed  at  the  dock  where  ferryboats  from 
Alameda  landed  in  the  city.  It  is  likely  that  he  was  there 
to  meet  Minnie  Williams  by  appointment.  It  will  be  remem¬ 
bered  that  on  that  day  she  left  the  Morgans  in  Alameda,  and 
removed  her  effects  to  the  house  of  Mrs.  Voy,  near  the  church. 

In  consequence  of  all  these  pointers,  none  of  which,  it 
must  be  admitted,  were  very  compromising,  and  the  circum¬ 
stance  that  not  the  slightest  clue  pointed  to  any  other  person, 
Theodore  Durant  fell  under  suspicion.  Saturday  night  a 
newspaper  reporter  for  the  San  Francisco  Chronicle  called  at 
the  Durant  residence  and  interviewed  Theodore’s  mother. 
She  was  horrified  at  the  murder,  of  which  she  had  heard  noth¬ 
ing,  and  still  more  so  at  the  bare  suggestion  that  her  son  could 
have  had  anything  to  do  with  the  awful  crime.  She  stated 
that  Theodore  was  out  of  the  city,  but  consented  to  allow  the 
reporter  to  examine  the  clothes  he  had  worn  the  preceding- 
evening.  The  newspaper  man  expected  to  find  blood-stains, 
but  in  this  he  was  disappointed.  But  his  search  was  not  with¬ 
out  results;  in  one  of  the  pockets  of  the  suit  he  found  a 
woman’s  pocketbook,  which  he  carried  away  without  opening 
it.  At  the  Chronicle  office  it  was  examined  and  found  to  con¬ 
tain,  besides  a  small  amount  of  change  and  a  few  trinkets, 
some  ferry-tickets  good  on  boats  running  from  Alameda  to  the 
city.  Mr.  Williams  was  sent  for,  and  promptly  and  positively 
identified  the  pocketbook  as  one  that  had  belonged  to  his 
daughter  Minnie.  Here  was  something  tangible,  decidedly 
incriminating,  in  fact.  In  telling  the  story  in  its  issue  of 
Sunday  morning,  the  Chronicle  boldly  declared,  not  only  that 
Durant  was  the  murderer  of  Minnie  Williams,  but  of  Blanche 
Lamont  as  well,  predicting  that  a  thorough  search  of  the 
“Hoodoo  Church”  would  bring  her  remains  to  light. 

Sunday  morning  officers  entered  the  Emanuel  Baptist 
Church  and  began  searching  for  the  remains  of  Blanche 
Lamont.  It  looked  like  a  foolish  quest;  that  the  body  of  the 
girl,  who  had  been  missing  for  eleven  days,  was  hidden  about 
the  premises,  seemed  almost  absurd,  yet  the  search  went  on. 
Finally,  when  all  the  lower  portion  of  the  building  had  been 
minutely  but  fruitlessly  examined,  the  party  ascended  to  the 


458 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


church-tower,  or  steeple.  It  contained  no  bell,  and  was  used 
for  no  purpose  whatever;  indeed,  few  of  the  members  of  the 
church  had  ever  entered  it.  The  door  was  found  securely 
locked,  but  bore  evidence  of  having  been  recently  forced  open, 
there  being  marks  of  a  chisel  or  some  like  instrument  upon 
both  door  and  casing.  The  officers  lost  no  time  in  gaining  an 
entrance.  Accustomed  as  they  were  to  awful  and  heart¬ 
rending  scenes,  they  fairly  started  back  at  the  horrid  sight 
which  was  revealed  by  the  flickering  light  of  a  match,  the 
place  being  quite  dark. 

Upon  the  floor  of  the  lower  room  of  the  tower,  just  inside 
the  door,  lay  the  outraged,  nude  and  bloated  remains  of  what 
had  once  been  a  beautiful  and  cultivated  girl,  Blanche 
Lamont.  A  glance  told  the  experienced  searchers  how  the 
unfortunate  young  lady  had  met  her  death.  About  her  neck 
were  blue  streaks,  the  marks  of  the  strong,  cruel  fingers  that 
had  been  imbedded  in  her  tender  flesh,  choking  out  her  young 
life.  The  face  was  fearfully  distorted,  the  mouth  being  open, 
exposing  the  pearly  teeth,  and  attesting  the  terrible  death  the 
poor  girl  had  died.  Her  hair,  which  lay  in  disorder  about  her 
shoulders,  was  matted  with  blood  and  dirt.  Altogether,  it 
was  a  most  gruesome  sight. 

The  clothing  had  disappeared,  but  a  search  soon  brought 
some  of  it  to  light.  Several  articles  were  soon  discovered  on 
the  joist  above  the  room  where  the  body  lay.  The  disposition 
that  the  wretch  had  made  of  the  dead  girl’s  clothing  was  one 
of  the  most  curious  things  in  this  remarkable  case.  It  was 
dispersed  in  as  many  places  as  there  were  pieces,  no  two  being 
found  together.  Many  articles  were  discovered  in  the  shal¬ 
low  space  above  the  auditorium,  the  murderer  having  evi¬ 
dently  crawled  around  to  dispose  of  them.  A  long  time  was 
consumed  in  this  search ;  indeed,  it  was  several  days  before  it 
was  completed.  At  length,  however,  every  article  that 
Blanche  Lamont  was  known  to  have  worn,  with  the  exception 
of  one  of  her  gloves,  was  recovered.  The  church-tower  was 
provided  with  shutters,  which  freely  admitted  the  air,  and,  but 
for  the  discovery  of  the  body  of  Minnie  Williams,  which  sug¬ 
gested  a  further  search,  months,  years,  might  have  passed 


THEODORE  DURANT 


459 


without  the  cruel  fate  of  Blanche  Lamont  being  known.  One 
of  the  most  revolting  features  of  this  horrible  case  was  sug¬ 
gested  by  the  medical  men  who  conducted  the  post-mortem 
examination.  They  decided  that  the  outrages  had  occurred 
after  death. 

A  stranger  contrast  can  hardly  be  conceived  than  was  pre¬ 
sented  in  Emanuel  Baptist  Church  that  beautiful  April  morn¬ 
ing,  as  the  bells  of  the  city  began  to  peal  for  the  Easter  serv¬ 
ices.  The  auditorium  below  was  decked  with  a  profusion  of 
flowers  in  commemoration  of  the  Risen  Lord.  Above,  in  the 
dark  church-tower,  lay  the  disfigured  and  dishonored  body  of 
one  of  the  fairest  of  all  the  flock  of  believers  that  had  been 
wont  to  meet  before  the  altar  below. 

Everything  now  pointed  more  strongly  than  ever  to  the 
guilt  of  the  young  student,  who  was  away  playing  soldier, 
seemingly  as  unconcerned  as  the  body  of  his  victim  in  the 
church-tower.  The  finger-marks  upon  the  throat  had  evi¬ 
dently  been  made  with  the  left  hand,  and  it  was  soon  ascer¬ 
tained  that  Durant  was  ambidextrous,  using  either  hand  with 
equal  facility.  The  head  of  the  murdered  girl  had  been  raised 
by  placing  a  piece  of  wood  under  it,  or  “blocked,”  in  the 
parlance  of  medical  students,  who  so  arrange  cadavers  upon 
the  dissecting-table. 

The  discovery  of  the  body  of  Blanche  Lamont  created  such 

an  excitement  as  San  Francisco  has  hardlv  known  since  the  old 

* 

days  of  vigilance  committees.  The  day  was  bright,  and  the 
entire  city  poured  into  the  streets.  Thousands  crowded 
around  the  church,  rendered  doubly  uncanny  by  the  latest 
terrible  disclosure,  while  the  streets  in  front  of  the  newspaper 
offices  were  packed  with  masses  of  humanity,  all  struggling  to 
get  a  view  of  the  bulletin  boards.  So  certain  were  the  author¬ 
ities  that  Durant  was  the  murderer  that  they  at  once  tele¬ 
graphed  to  all  the  sheriffs  and  officers  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Mount  Diablo,  to  look  for  and  arrest  the  young  militia-man. 

About  five  o’clock  in  the  afternoon  of  Sunday  a  dispatch 
was  received  announcing  the  arrest  of  Theodore  Durant.  He 
ha^  been  taken  at  Walnut  Creek  on  the  road  to  Mount  Diablo, 
7  7  Detective  Anthoney,  a  San  Francisco  officer  who  had  left 


460 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


the  city  early  in  the  morning.  The  officer  reached  San  Fran¬ 
cisco  toward  evening.  The  news  of  his  expected  arrival  had 
been  widely  spread,  and  an  immense  crowd  congregated  at  the 
ferry -house  to  await  his  coming  from  Oakland.  The  crowd 
clamored  for  the  life  of  the  prisoner,  so  intense  was  the  excite¬ 
ment,  and,  but  for  the  presence  of  a  large  number  of  police- 
officers,  violence  might  have  been  offered  to  him.  Durant  was 
hurried  into  a  waiting  patrol-wagon  and  driven  away  to  the 
city  prison. 

Upon  the  discovery  and  identification  of  the  remains,  the 
chief  of  police  sent  for  the  Rev.  John  George  Gibson,  pastor 
of  the  church.  This  gave  rise  to  the  report  that  the  clergyman 
had  been  arrested,  charged  with  the  awful  crimes,  and  for  a 
time  many  believed  him  to  be  guilty,  reports  to  that  effect 
being  telegraphed  all  over  the  country.  Crowds  surrounded 
the  pastor’s  residence,  extra  papers  were  issued,  and  the  wild¬ 
est  excitement  prevailed.  Nothing  of  the  kind  had  taken 
place,  however,  the  chief  only  wishing  to  learn  what  light  Mr. 
Gibson  and  the  church-sexton  could  throw  upon  the  matter. 
Later,  upon  the  trial  of  Durant,  the  attorneys  for  the  defense 
undertook  to  asperse  the  character  of  this  worthy  man,  broadly 
intimating  that  he  was  the  real  murderer.  But  the  feeling 
against  him  had  passed  away,  and  his  absolute  innocence 
was  almost  universally  recognized. 

At  the  time  of  her  disappearance,  Blanche  Lamont  wore 
four  rings.  On  Saturday,  the  day  the  mutilated  body  of 
Minnie  Williams  was  discovered,  Mrs.  Charles  Noble,  the  aunt 
of  the  missing  girl,  received  by  mail  three  of  these  rings 
wrapped  in  paper,  upon  which  was  written  the  names  of 
George  R.  King,  organist  of  the  church,  and  Prof.  Schonstein, 
who  taught  Blanche  music.  Experts  declared  that  the  writing 
had  been  done  by  Theodore  Durant,  who  had  made  an  effort 
to  disguise  his  hand.  It  was  afterwards  learned  that  Durant 
had  pawned  the  fourth  ring,  and  these  facts  told  heavily 
against  him  upon  the  trial.  Foolish  and  reckless  as  these 
proceedings  were,  they  were  in  perfect  accord  with  the  young 
man’s  strange  behavior  throughout  the  entire  case.  On  April 
19th  the  coroner’s  jury  completed  its  investigations,  and  found 


THEODORE  DURANT 


461 


that  Blanche  Lamont  came  to  her  death  at  the  hands  of  Theo¬ 
dore  Durant.  He  was  remanded  to  jail  to  await  his  trial. 

The  trial  of  Theodore  Durant  was  intensely  interesting,  the 
court-room  being  constantly  crowded.  It  began  on  Septem¬ 
ber  1st,  and  occupied  several  weeks.  Although  entirely  cir¬ 
cumstantial,  the  evidence  was  very  conclusive  in  its  character 
and  scope,  and  left  no  doubt  of  the  guilt — the  awful  guilt — of 
the  accused.  One  of  the  most  interesting  pieces  of  testimony 
was  that  of  George  R.  King,  the  church  organist.  On  the 
afternoon  of  April  3d,  the  day  of  Blanche  Lamont’s  disap¬ 
pearance,  he  entered  the  church  for  the  purpose  of  practicing 
some  music  that  he  designed  to  render  on  Easter  Sunday. 
While  playing  the  organ  he  was  startled  by  an  unusual  noise, 
and  looked  quickly  in  the  direction  from  whence  it  proceeded, 
when  he  saw  Durant.  The  naturally  pale  face  of  the  student 
was  almost  entirely  destitute  of  color.  It  was  bathed  in 
perspiration,  and  he  was  trembling  violently.  He  explained 
that  he  had  been  doing  some  work  in  the  church.  He  had  not 
been  feeling  well,  he  said,  and  the  sound  of  the  organ  had 
somehow  unnerved  him.  He  asked  King  to  go  to  a  drug  store 
in  the  neighborhood  and  procure  some  bromo-seltzer  for  him. 
The  organist  readily  complied,  Durant  mixed  and  drank  a  por¬ 
tion  of  it,  and  the  two  left  the  church  together,  parting  company 
soon  afterwards.  It  is  more  than  likely  that  King  entered  the 
church  as  the  fiend  was  disposing  of  the  body  of  his  victim. 
What  wonder  that  the  organ,  pealing  forth  the  notes  announc¬ 
ing  the  resurrection  of  the  Savior,  should  unnerve  the  wretch, 
and  send  him  to  the  auditorium  to  make  sure  of  King’s 
absence  for  a  few  minutes,  that  he  might  complete  the  work 
of  hiding  from  view  the  tell-tale  evidences  of  his  awful  work  * 
Beyond  all  question  he  returned  to  the  church  as  soon  as  he 
had  gotten  rid  of  his  troublesome  companion. 

A  lady  living  opposite  to  the  church  testified  to  having  seen 
Durant  and  Miss  Lamont  enter  the  church  on  the  afternoon 
of  her  disappearance.  This  lady  had  kept  silent  about  the 
matter  until  the  trial,  not  wishing  to  make  herself  conspicuous, 
and  her  testimony  produced  something  of  a  sensation,  and  had 
great  weight  against  the  prisoner  at  the  bar. 


462 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


It  was  shown  that  Durant  was  not  at  the  college  to  attend 
the  medical  lecture  on  that  fateful  April  3d.  He  had  had  one 
of  his  comrades  answer  to  his  name  at  roll-call — a  not  unprec¬ 
edented  proceeding,  as  some  who  have  been  students  will 
admit.  He  had  also  secured  the  note-book  of  one  of  his 
friends,  from  which  he  made  entries  in  his  own.  This  point 
was  strongly  contested,  the  defense  undertaking  to  show  that 
he  was  present  at  the  lecture,  which  would  have  impeached  the 
testimony  of  some  of  the  State’s  witnesses,  notably  the  lady 
who  saw  him  enter  the  church  with  Blanche  Lamont. 

For  three  or  four  nights  after  Durant  was  apprehended  he 
was  excessively  nervous,  often  wakening  up  in  the  night, 
screaming  with  affright.  After  that,  however,  he  entirely 
regained  his  composure,  and  remained  cool  and  collected  dur¬ 
ing  the  long  trial  that  ensued.  On  September  9th  he  was 
placed  in  the  witness-box  to  try  to  establish  his  innocence  of 
the  awful  crime  for  the  commission  of  which  he  was  arraigned. 
His  manner  showed  not  the  slightest  concern;  indeed,  his 
wonderful  nerve  was  commented  upon  by  all  present.  He 
denied  in  toto  all  the  testimony  of  an  incriminating  character 
that  had  been  introduced  against  him.  He  admitted  that  he 
had  been  at  the  wharf  on  the  afternoon  of  Minnie  Williams’ 
murder,  and  made  the  following  weak  explanation.  He  said 
that  two  days  before  the  discovery  of  her  body  he  was 
accosted  by  a  stranger  in  the  street,  who  asked  him  if  his 
name  was  not  Durant.  Upon  receiving  an  affirmative  answer, 
the  stranger  asked  him  if  he  was  interested  in  the  missing 
Blanche  Lamont.  Durant  assured  him  that  nothing  could  give 
him  greater  pleasure  than  to  ascertain  her  whereabouts, 
whereupon  the  other  said:  “Watch  the  ferries,  then.  She  will 
try  to  cross  the  bay.  That  is  my  advice.  ”  It  was  to  follow 
this  advice  and  discover  his  missing  friend  that  had  caused 
him  to  go  to  the  docks. 

On  cross-examination,  Durant  was  badly  muddled  in  sev¬ 
eral  particulars.  Asked  why  he  had  not  communicated  the 
clue  he  had  received  from  the  stranger  to  Blanche  Lamont’s 
friends,  he  claimed  that  he  had  had  no  opportunity.  Pressed 
on  the  point,  he  was  forced  to  admit  that  he  had  seen  a  num- 


THEODORE  DURANT 


463 


ber  of  her  most  intimate  friends  at  the  gathering  at  Dr.  Vogel’s 
on  the  night  when  Minnie  Williams  was  murdered.  More 
than  that,  he  had  conversed  with  the  doctor,  who,  next  to 
Mrs.  Noble,  had  manifested  the  greatest  concern  at  her  disap¬ 
pearance.  He  said  that  he  had  not  spoken  to  Dr.  Vogel 
because  it  had  not  occurred  to  him  at  the  time.  Taken  alto¬ 
gether,  the  testimony  of  the  defendant  tended  to  weaken  such 
defense  as  his  lawyers  had  been  able  to  make  for  him. 

Theodore  Durant  was  the  first  criminal  tried  in  California 
under  the  law  which  provides  that  fourteen  jurymen  be  sworn 
in  the  case  and  listen  to  the  entire  evidence.  The  two  in 
excess  of  the  regulation  twelve  provided  by  the  common  law, 
are  only  to  serve,  and  that  in  the  order  in  which  they  are 
sworn,  in  the  case  of  the  death,  disability  or  dismissal  of  one 
or  two  of  the  twelve  regular  jurymen.  In  his  case  neither  of 
the  two  reserves  was  called  upon  to  act,  though  both  sat 
through  the  entire  trial.  Durant  was  ably  defended,  a  little 
unscrupulously,  it  may  be  said,  since  the  effort  to  persuade  the 
jury  that  the  Rev.  Mr.  Gibson  was  the  guilty  party,  unsup¬ 
ported  by  any  tangible  evidence,  was  almost  the  refinement  of 
cruelty.  Such  effect  as  this  course  had  upon  the  jury  was  to 
prejudice  them  against  one  in  whose  behalf  such  unprofes¬ 
sional  methods  were  employed.  There  is  not  in  the  mind  of 
any  candid  person,  informed  in  the  premises,  the  slightest 
doubt  as  to  the  guilt  of  Theodore  Durant,  not  alone  of  the 
crime  for  which  he  was  tried,  but  of  the  murder  of  Minnie 
Williams  as  well.  He  was  promptly  found  guilty,  and  sen¬ 
tenced  to  be  hanged  February  7,  1896.  His  attorneys  took  an 
appeal  to  the  Supreme  Court  of  California,  but  a  new  trial  was 
denied. 

To  follow  in  detail  the  history  of  the  Durant  case  would  be 
to  write  a  chapter  upon  the  “law’s  delays.”  Blanche  Lamont 
was  killed  on  April  3,  1895,  and  Minnie  Williams  nine  days 
later.  The  murderer  was  arrested  on  April  14,  1895,  yet 
nearly  three  years  elapsed  before  he  was  called  upon  to 
expiate  his  awful  crimes.  Appeals  were  taken  to  every  court 
that  could  grant  relief  or  delay,  and  to  every  power  that  could 
pardon  or  reprieve.  Four  times  was  the  wretch  sentenced  to 


464 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


death,  the  last  occasion  being  December  15,  1897.  Even  then 
hope  was  not  resigned,  and  a  final  appeal  was  made  to  the 
Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States,  which,  at  almost  the 
last  moment,  declined  to  interfere  with  the  tardy  course  of 
California  justice. 

Theodore  Durant  was  executed  on  January  7,  1898,  and 
met  death  with  the  utmost  composure,  protesting  his  innocence 
almost  at  the  last  moment.  From  the  scaffold,  beside  the 
swinging  noose  that  was  so  soon  to  launch  him  into  eternity, 
his  eyes  often  resting  upon  the  face  of  his  father,  who  stood 
in  the  large  throng  before  him,  the  murderer  spoke  thus : 

“To  those  who  wish  me  to  say  something,  I  wish  to  say 
this:  That  I  have  no  animosity  against  any  one  but  those  who 
have  persecuted  me  and  have  hounded  me  to  my  grave,  inno¬ 
cent  as  I  am.  I  forgive  them  all.  They  will  receive  their 
justice  from  the  Holy  God  above,  to  whom  I  now  go  to  receive 
my  justice,  which  will  be  the  justice  given  to  an  innocent  boy, 
who  has  not  stained  his  hands  with  the  crimes  that  have  been 
put  upon  him  by  the  press  of  San  Francisco.  I  forgive  them 
all,  for  I  do  not  hold  anything  against  them  for  it. 

“I  do  not  look  upon  people  now  as  enemies.  I  forgive 
them  as  I  expect  to  be  forgiven  for  anything  that  I  have  done ; 
but  the  fair  fame  of  California  will  forever  be  blackened  with 
the  crime  of  taking  this  innocent  blood,  and  whether  or  no 
they  ever  discover  the  committers  of  these  crimes  matters 
little  to  me  now,  for  I  appear  before  the  whole  world  inno¬ 
cent,  to  proclaim  my  innocence  for  the  last  time,  and  to  those 
who  have  insinuated  that  I  was  going  to  spring  a  sensation  of 
any  kind,  I  can  say  that  there  is  no  sensation  other  than  that  of 
which  I  have  spoken. 

“They  must  consider  for  themselves  who  wished  to  start  up 
a  sensation.  That  I  am  innocent  I  say  now,  this  day,  before 
God,  to  whom  I  now  go  to  meet  my  dues.  I  am  innocent.  ” 

Before  his  death,  Durant  made  a  profession  of  the  Catholic 
faith,  and  was  attended  in  his  last  hours  and  upon  the  scaffold 
by  Rev.  Father  Logan.  Rev.  William  Roder,  who  had  been 
his  spiritual  adviser  before  he  became  a  Catholic,  expressed 
himself  as  entirely  satisfied  of  the  condemned  man’s  guilt, 


DISCOVERING  THE  REMAINS  OF  MINNIE  WILLIAMS. — PAGE  454 


THEODORE  DURANT 


465 


though  he  did  not  say  that  he  had  ever  made  a  formal  con¬ 
fession  to  him.  Mr.  Roder  spoke  of  Durant  as  a  psychological 
monster,  not  to  be  classed  with  the  ordinary  criminal.  The 
following,  from  the  San  Francisco  Call  of  January  8,  1898,  may 
prove  of  interest  to  students  of  heredity: 

“The  black  cap  when  taken  off  disclosed  a  shocking  sight. 
The  face  was  almost  black;  the  eyes  half  protruding,  and  the 
lips  half  open.  The  jaws  were  firmly,  rigorously  set;  the 
features  distorted.  The  parents  kissed  the  lips  of  the  dead. 
Mrs.  Durant  wept.  Her  husband  mingled  his  tears  with  hers, 
and  tried  with  her  vainly  to  smooth  the  visage  of  their  son  into 
its  former  likeness.  Everybodj^  present  turned  to  the  windows 
to  conceal  their  sympathetic  emotions.  When  their  eyes  were 
again  cast  upon  the  scene  both  parents  had  taken  seats  near  the 
coffin.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Durant  were  chatting,  and  she  was  smiling. 

“Thus  they  had  remained  quite  a  while,  when  convict  Wil¬ 
son,  who  is  detailed  to  care  for  these  rooms,  approached  and 
asked  Mrs.  Durant  if  she  would  not  like  a  cup  of  tea.  ‘Thank 
you,  I  would,  ’  was  her  reply. 

“Instead  of  tea,  a  tray  loaded  with  an  abundance  of  every¬ 
thing  the  prison  dinner-fare  afforded,  was  sent  to  the  coffin 
side.  Here  a  table  was  spread  within  three  feet  of  the  corpse. 
The  parents  seated  themselves  and  ate  heartily;  ate  all  uncon¬ 
sciously  of  every  presence,  living  and  dead ;  ate  till  they  were 
sated.  How  they  ate  may  be  judged  from  the  request  over¬ 
heard  by  the  shocked  and  disgusted  witnesses:  ‘Papa,  give  me 
some  more  of  the  roast.  ’ 

“After  the  remains  of  the  unnatural  repast  had  been  taken 
away,  they  sat  conversing  until  the  body  was  borne  from  the 
prison.  ” 

The  Durant  murders  and  the  shocking  disclosures  that  fol¬ 
lowed,  had  stirred  the  people  of  the  Pacific  coast  as  nothing 
ever  did  before,  and  the  rejoicing  at  his  death  was  almost  uni¬ 
versal,  and  so  intense  was  the  popular  detestation  that  no 
cemetery  would  receive  his  dishonored  remains,  which  were 
finally  reduced  to  ashes  through  the  process  of  cremation. 

It  is  difficult  to  classify  the  case  of  Theodore  Durant.  At 
first  sight  the  homicidal  impulse  suggests  itself  as  the  moving 


466 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


cause,  and  doubtless  this  is  true,  though  other  devilish  inclina¬ 
tions  were  mingled  with  the  desire  to  kill.  After  Durant’s 
arrest  it  was  learned  from  some  of  his  fellow-students  who 
knew  him  intimately  and  were  themselves,  very  possibly, 
inclined  to  be  a  little  wild,  that  he  was  not  the  exemplary 
person  he  had  commonly  been  believed  to  be.  Those  in  a 
position  to  read  his  real  character  considered  him  decidedly 
hypocritical,  and  took  not  the  slightest  stock  in  his  claim  of 
leading  a  religious  life.  To  more  than  one  of  his  companions 
he  boasted  of  the  intimate  relations  he  had  sustained  with 
women.  He  told  of  trips  he  had  taken  to  Carson  City,  in  com¬ 
pany  with  three  railroad  men,  and  how  they  had,  upon  one 
occasion,  most  brutally  treated  an  Indian  woman.  This  last 
matter  probably  explains,  so  far  as  it  can  be  done,  the 
ruling  passion  of  Durant’s  life.  His  nature  was  doubtless 
perverted,  the  most  unnatural  and  horrible  ideas  presenting 
themselves  to  his  mind. 

It  seems  quite  likely  that  he  murdered  Minnie  Williams 
because  she  had  some  suspicion,  perhaps  positive  knowledge, 
of  the  fate  of  Blanche  Lamont.  In  view  of  his  strange  conduct, 
particularly  in  sending  the  rings  to  Mrs.  Noble,  it  is  not  at  all 
unlikely  that  he  told  Minnie  something  about  himself.  Men 
capable  of  committing  such  outrageous  and  unnatural  crimes 
are  quite  capable  of  boasting  of  their  infamy ;  indeed,  such  a 
proceeding  was  hardly  more  reckless  than  to  leave  the  mutilated 
remains  of  his  latest  victim  where  they  were  certain  to  be  dis¬ 
covered  the  following  day,  and  go  off  on  a  scouting  expedition. 

It  was  not  claimed  that  Durant  was  insane,  yet  that  there 
was  something  morally  defective  in  his  make-up  is  apparent. 
Cases  like  his  do  not,  most  happily,  often  occur,  but  their 
occurrence  is  frequent  enough  to  show  that  “man  is  joined  to 
the  beasts  of  the  field  by  his  body,”  and  may  become  some¬ 
thing  worse  than  a  beast  of  prey,  when  he  flings  aside  con¬ 
science,  love  of  humanity  and  God,  and  resolves,  no  matter  at 
the  expense  of  what  crimes,  to  gratify  his  bestial  tendencies. 
The  short  life  of  Theodore  Durant  presents  one  of  the  saddest, 
most  brutal  pictures  in  the  entire  history  of  human  depravity 
and  crime. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 


THE  PEARL  BRYAN  MURDER 

“When  lovely  woman  stoops  to  folly 
And  learns  too  late  that  men  betray, 

What  art  can  soothe  her  melancholy, 

What  care  can  drive  her  grief  away?” 

Beautiful  Pearl  Bryan,  a  rustic  yet  most  attractive  maiden 
of  Greencastle,  Ind.,  fully  realized  in  her  own  brief  life  and 
sad,  tragic  death,  these  words  of  Goldsmith.  Murder  is  surely 
akin  to  lust,  for  it  often  follows  fast  upon  its  predecessor’s 
heels,  as  is  exemplified  in  the  tragedy  that  had  three  States  for 
its  stage,  the  first  act  being  presented  in  a  quiet  little  city  of 
Indiana,  the  second  in  the  metropolis  of  Ohio,  the  third  in 
the  Kentucky  thickets,  near  Cincinnati,  and  the  fourth  in  the 
yard  of  the  jail  at  Newport. 

About  eight  o’clock  on  the  morning  of  February  i,  1896,  a 
colored  boy  by  the  name  of  John  Hewling,  the  son  of  a  neigh¬ 
boring  farmer,  while  crossing  the  property  of  John  Locke,  near 
Fort  Thomas,  Kentucky,  just  south  of  Cincinnati,  made  a  dis¬ 
covery  that  he  will  not  forget  while  he  lives;  a  discovery  that 
sent  him  fairly  flying  from  the  spot.  As  he  was  hurrying 
along  to  his  work,  whistling  merrily  in  the  clear,  cold  air  of 
the  morning,  he  came  suddenly  upon  a  headless  human  body. 

The  form  was  that  of  a  woman,  who  must  have  been  beau¬ 
tiful  in  life.  But  the  boy  did  not  wait  any  close  scrutiny,  but 
ran  to  give  the  alarm,  notifying  a  farmer,  who,  in  turn, 
apprised  the  local  police,  and  the  body  was  removed  to  New¬ 
port,  no  great  distance  away.  When  found  it  was  dressed 
only  in  a  suit  of  union  underclothing,  and  a  cheap  checked 
wrapper.  The  ghastly  operation  of  removing  the  head  had 
doubtless  been  performed  with  a  view  to  preventing  identi- 

467 


468 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


fication,  yet,  with  a  carelessness  so  often  noticed  in  similar 
cases,  lying  near  by  were  articles  calculated  to  lead  to  the 
speedy  and  certain  discovery  of  the  murdered  woman’s  iden¬ 
tity.  These  consisted  of  a  glove,  corset  and  a  pair  of  shoes. 

The  latter  bore  the  stamp  of  “Lewis  &  Hayes,  Greencastle, 
Indiana,’’  and  furnished  the  first  tangible  clew  destined  to 
unravel  the  awful  mystery  that  enshrouded  the  headless  form. 
Inquiries  were  at  once  made  at  Greencastle,  and,  four  days 
after  the  discovery  of  the  remains,  all  the  articles  of  clothing, 
including  even  some  hairpins,  were  positively  identified  as 
those  of  Pearl  Bryan,  by  A.  S.  Bryan,  a  highly  respected 
farmer  living  near  the  little  city,  and  his  weeping  family. 

A  more  awful  or  unexpected  blow  has  seldom  descended 
upon  the  heads  of  a  loving  and  united  family.  The  youngest 
child,  Pearl,  had  been  the  flower  of  the  flock,  the  universal  pet 
of  the  household.  At  the  time  of  her  sad  death  she  was 
twenty-two  years  of  age,  and  went  much  in  society,  moving 
only  in  the  very  best  circles.  She  seemed  quite  susceptible  to 
the  attentions  of  young  men,  but  had  no  recognized  sweet¬ 
heart.  She  was  regarded  as  of  a  cold  rather  than  a  passionate 
disposition,  though  likely  to  bow  before  the  demands  of  a 
superior  intellect.  When  Pearl  Bryan  left  her  home  on  Jan¬ 
uary  26,  1896,  she  was  regarded  as  a  pure  and  guileless 
maiden,  yet,  instead  of  repairing  to  Indianapolis,  to  visit 
friends,  as  her  family  supposed,  she  went  to  Cincinnati,  to 
become  the  subject  of  a  criminal  operation. 

But,  though  the  unfortunate  girl’s  relatives  and  friends 
were  blissfully  ignorant  of  her  wrong-doing,  the  Cincinnati 
authorities  were  not.  A.  W.  Early,  a  telegraph  operator  at 
Greencastle,  sent  the  detectives  the  following  information: 
He  had  a  friend  in  Greencastle,  a  young  man  named  William 
T.  Wood,  the  son  of  a  prominent  Methodist  clergyman.  This 
Will  Wood  had  told  Early  that  he  had  received  letters  from 
Scott  Jackson,  a  dental  student  of  Cincinnati,  touching  the 
condition  of  Pearl  Bryan.  Wood  said  it  was  necessary,  in 
order  to  preserve  Pearl’s  reputation,  for  her  to  go  to  Cincin¬ 
nati,  where  Jackson  would  have  a  friend,  a  surgeon  and 
chemist,  to  take  care  of  her. 


THE  PEARL  BRYAN  MURDER 


469 


The  detectives  who  had  gone  to  Greencastle  at  once  noti¬ 
fied  Colonel  Deitsch,  chief  of  police  of  Cincinnati,  who  caused 
Jackson  to  be  located  and  arrested.  This  was  on  February 
5th,  the  day  after  the  identification  of  the  clothing.  This  was 
most  expeditious  work,  in  marked  contrast  to  that  often  done 
in  mysterious  murder  cases.  At  the  same  time,  it  must  be 
remembered  that  the  clues  were  clear  and  distinct,  and  could 
not  well  have  led  to  different  results.  When  first  approached 
by  the  officers  Jackson  talked  quite  freely,  indignantly  assert¬ 
ing  his  innocence.  He  stated  that  he  had  a  roommate  named 
Alonzo  M.  Walling,  and  the  latter  was  sent  for,  but  was 
released  after  being  closely  questioned,  Jackson  being  locked 
up.  A  few  hours  later  a  Cincinnati  reporter,  who  was  work¬ 
ing  on  the  case  and  who  seems  to  have  been  possessed  of  some 
real  ability  as  a  detective,  decided  that  Walling  had  been  an 
accomplice  of  Jackson,  and  swore  out  a  warrant  for  his  arrest, 
which  was  promptly  served.  The  following  day  detectives 
who  had  been  detailed  to  locate  and  arrest  Will  Wood, 
arrived  in  the  city  with  the  minister’s  son  in  charge,  they  hav¬ 
ing  apprehended  him  in  South  Bend,  Ind.  Wood  claimed  to 
be  innocent  of  all  complicity  in  the  murder,  but  admitted  that 
he  had  sent  Pearl  Bryan  to  Cincinnati,  that  her  shame,  of 
which  he  was  cognizant,  might  be  covered  up.  He  was 
released  on  $5,000  bail. 

Jackson  had  formed  the  acquaintance  of  Miss  Bryan  during 
the  summer  and  early  autumn  of  1895,  in  Greencastle,  where 
he  had  gone  to  visit  his  mother,  who  was  staying  there.  At 
that  time  he  became  very  intimate  with  young  Wood,  whom 
he  afterwards  charged  with  having  first  led  the  young  woman 
astray.  Jackson  spent  the  ensuing  holidays  in  Greencastle, 
and  learned  the  girl’s  condition.  After  this  he  corresponded 
with  Wood,  through  whom  he  seems  to  have  arranged  to  have 
Pearl  come  to  Cincinnati.  Wood  made  a  confidant  of  the  tele¬ 
graph  operator,  and  hence  the  entire  plot  was  brought  to 
light.  Wood  was  subsequently  surrendered  by  his  bondsmen 
and  spent  some  time  in  jail.  He  was  afterwards  released,  and 
was  an  important  witness  against  the  murderers.  He  was 
rather  a  weak  young  man,  who,  like  Pearl  Bryan,  fell  under 


470 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


the  domination  of  Jackson’s  stronger  will,  but  he  surely  had 
no  idea  that  the  girl’s  murder  was  contemplated. 

Slowly  but  surely  the  coils  of  the  law  began  to  tighten 
around  the  two  guilty  students.  A  colored  man,  a  waiter  in  a 
saloon,  reported  that  Jackson  and  Walling,  accompanied  by  a 
woman  who  answered  well  to  the  description  of  Pearl  Bryan, 
had  visited  the  place  on  the  night  of  Friday,  January  31,  1896. 
This  was  supported  by  the  statement  of  the  proprietor,  Dave 
Wallingford.  The  waiter  claimed  to  have  heard  Jackson  say 
that  night:  “I  would  like  to  have  a  woman’s  head  to  dissect.” 

At  this  point  the  two  wretches  began  to  contradict  each 
other,  a  course  which  they  pursued  until  they  appeared  upon 
the  fatal  trap,  something  more  than  a  year  later.  Walling 
admitted  that  he  was  at  the  saloon  at  the  time  stated,  while 
Jackson  claimed  that  he  was  elsewhere  himself.  Each  of  the 
scoundrels  attempted  to  throw  the  blame  upon  the  other. 
Walling  told  the  officers  that  Jackson  had  killed  the  girl  by 
giving  her  injections  of  prussic  acid  or  cocaine,  he  did  not 
know  which.  It  is  more  than  probable  that  her  death  was 
attempted  in  this  manner,  since  cocaine  was  found  in  the  body 
by  the  examining  chemist.  This  Jackson  denied,  maintaining 
that  Walling  had  agreed  to  perform  the  operation,  and  in 
doing  so  had  killed  her.  Each,  with  the  most  solemn  oaths, 
asserted  that  the  other  had  severed  the  head  from  the  body  of 
the  dead  girl. 

That  both  men  were  awfully,  if  not  equally  guilty,  admits 
of  no  sort  of  doubt.  Walling’s  trousers,  taken  from  his  locker 
in  the  college,  were  muddy  and  spotted  with  blood,  while  Jack¬ 
son’s  coat,  flecked  all  over  with  blood  spots,  was  fished  out  of  a 
sewer  at  the  corner  of  John  and  Richmond  streets,  where  the 
officers,  acting  under  Walling’s  drections,  located  it.  In  Jack¬ 
son’s  pockets  were  found  six  handkerchiefs,  proven  to  have 
belonged  to  the  betrayed  and  murdered  girl. 

All  of  the  time  that  Pearl  Bryan  passed  in  Cincinnati  was 
never  satisfactorily  accounted  for.  On  Thursday  afternoon 
preceding  the  murder  Walling  was  seen  with  a  young  woman 
at  the  Central  Union  Station.  It  was  tolerably  certain  that 
she  had  determined  to  return  to  her  home  and  friends  in 


THE  PEARL  BRYAN  MURDER 


47i 


Greencastle,  and  that  the  unfeeling  wretch,  who  had  no 
motive  other  than  to  assist  his  friend  Jackson  to  escape  from 
an  embarrassing  predicament,  or  the  gratification  of  the  homi¬ 
cidal  impulse,  deliberately  detained  her  until  the  last  train  for 
that  day  had  departed.  For  a  day  or  two  after  the  murder 
Jackson  carried  about  with  him  a  valise.  This  was  subse¬ 
quently  found,  and  was  blood-stained  on  the  inside,  the  theory 
of  the  officers  being  that  it  had  contained  the  severed  head  of 
the  unfortunate  young  woman.  If  this  appears  unreasonable, 
impossible  almost,  it  should  be  remembered  that  Scott  Jackson 
was  a  hardened  villain,  destitute  of  conscience  and  possessed  of 
the  most  morbid  fancies.  It  is  very  possible  that  he  medi¬ 
tated  dissecting  it,  as  suggested  by  the  colored  man’s  state¬ 
ment.  The  head  was  never  found,  though  large  rewards  were 
offered  for  its  production,  and  the  two  murderers  carried  the 
awful  secret  to  their  graves.  Jackson  doubtless  disposed  of  it 
in  some  way. 

On  May  nth,  a  Mr.  Irvine,  of  Covington,  Ky.,  visited  the 
jail  in  Cincinnati,  and  identified  Jackson  and  Walling  as  two 
men  he  had  seen  haggling  with  a  negro,  apparently  about  the 
price  of  some  service,  the  morning  that  the  headless  body  was 
found.  From  this  time  great  efforts  were  made  to  find  this 
negro. 

It  is  seldom  that  the  entwisted  threads  of  a  murder  mys¬ 
tery  are  unraveled  in  an  orderly  and  connected  manner,  the 
maudlin  love  for  notoriety  usually  bringing  some  outsider  into 
the  plot.  This  occurred  in  the  Pearl  Bryan  case.  At  a  time 
when  the  authorities  were  moving  swiftly  towards  the  final 
solution  of  the  dark  crime  a  sensational  and  morbid  woman 
appeared  on  the  scene  in  the  person  of  Lulu  May  Hollings¬ 
worth,  of  Knox  City,  Ind. 

She  came  to  Cincinnati  and  called  upon  the  police,  claim¬ 
ing  to  know  all  about  the  entire  transaction.  She  stated  that 
Pearl  Bryan  had  met  her  death  while  submitting  to  a  criminal 
operation,  undertaken  at  her  own  request.  Lulu  claimed  to 
know  Jackson,  and  said  she  had  received  a  letter  from  him  in 
which  he  stated  the  spot  where  the  decapitation  had  taken 
place.  The  letter  stated  that  Pearl  had  died  in.  Jackson’s 


472 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


room,  and  that  he  had  hired  a  negro  to  take  the  body  away  in 
a  buggy  to  the  thicket  near  Fort  Thomas,  where  Jackson  was 
in  waiting.  There  Jackson  paid  the  negro  to  cut  off  the  head, 
which  he  took  charge  of  himself,  throwing  it  into  the  river, 
from  the  suspension  bridge. 

Lulu  claimed  that  she  had  once  known  Miss  Bryan,  and 
had  met  her  in  a  railway  depot  a  few  days  before  her  death, 
when  she  had  made  her  a  confidante  of  all  her  troubles.  The 
police  believed  the  story  to  be  true,  but  an  investigation  of 
some  of  the  statements  demonstrated  that  they  were  entirely 
false.  It  was  decided  that  Miss  Hollingsworth  knew  nothing 
of  the  matter,  it  having  been  ascertained  that  she  was  devoted 
to  everything  of  a  sensational  character.  It  is  believed  that 
she  was  induced  to  tell  the  stories  she  did  by  friends  of  Jack- 
son  and  Walling,  who  hoped  that  the  so-called  disclosures 
might  make  in  their  favor. 

Coroner  Tingley,  of  Jackson  county,  Kentucky,  held  an 
inquest  on  the  remains  of  the  murdered  woman  on  February 
1 2th,  the  following  verdict  being  rendered  by  the  jury: 

“First.  That  the  dead  body  found  on  the  farm  of  John 
Locke,  near  Fort  Thomas,  February  ist,  is  the  body  of  Pearl 
Bryan,  late  of  Greencastle,  Ind. 

“Second.  That  cocaine  had  been  administered  to  the 
woman. 

“Third.  That  the  decapitation  had  taken  place  while  the 
woman  was  still  alive,  and  at  the  place  where  the  body  was 
found. 

“Fourth.  That  Pearl  Bryan,  Scott  Jackson  and  Alonzo 
M.  Walling  were  last  seen  together  at  six  o’clock  on  Friday 
evening,  January  31st,  entering  a  cab  together  at  George  and 
Plum  streets,  Cincinnati,  and  that  the  cab  was  driven  south  in 
the  direction  of  Fort  Thomas.’’ 

As  to  cocaine,  Dr.  W.  H.  Crane,  of  Cincinnati,  swore  that 
he  had  not  yet  completed  an  analysis  of  the  stomach,  but  had 
found  one-fourth  of  a  grain  of  the  drug  and  thought  he  would 
recover  a  full  grain.  Fie  ultimately  recovered  two-thirds  of  a 
grain.  Dr.  Caruthers,  who  held  the  post-mortem,  gave  it  as 
his  opinion  that  decapitation  had  been  performed  while  there 


THE  PEARL  BRYAN  MURDER 


473 


was  still  life  in  the  body,  and  this  view  was  supported  by  the 
evidence  of  twigs  and  leaves  cut  from  bushes  the  morning  the 
body  was  discovered.  These  showed  blood-stains  on  the  lower 
side,  demonstrating  that  blood  must  have  spurted  into  the  air 
to  a  height  of  from  two  to  six  feet.  This  was  regarded  as  very 
important,  since  the  question  of  venue  seemed  certain  to  arise 
upon  the  trial. 

Scott  Jackson  and  Alonzo  M.  Walling  were  promptly 
indicted  in  Jackson  county,  Kentucky,  for  the  murder  of  Pearl 
Bryan.  Formal  charges  had  already  been  made  against  them 
in  Hamilton  county,  Ohio,  but  they  were  subsequently  held  as 
fugitives  from  justice.  A  requisition  was  obtained  from  the 
governor  of  Kentucky,  and  the  prisoners  were  surrendered  by 
the  Ohio  authorities  and  taken  to  the  jail  in  Newport,  the 
county-seat  of  Jackson  county.  There  were  threats  of  lynch¬ 
ing,  and  extra  precautions  for  the  safety  of  the  prisoners  were 
taken.  It  all  ended  in  talk,  however,  and  no  overt  acts  of 
violence  were  attempted. 

A  strong  case  had  now  been  made  against  the  students,  but 
it  is  extremely  doubtful  whether  it  was  strong  enough  to  have 
secured  their  conviction,  there  being  some  links  missing  in  the 
chain  of  evidence.  How  came  the  body  at  the  lonely  spot 
near  Fort  Thomas?  Was  Pearl  Bryan  murdered  in  Ohio  or 
Kentucky?  These  were  all-important  questions,  the  last  one 
particularly,  since  the  evident  defense  would  largely  be  one  of 
venue.  If  tried  in  Kentucky,  the  defense  would  claim  that 
death  had  occurred  in  Ohio,  while  if  they  were  arraigned  in 
the  latter  State  they  would  set  up  the  defense  that  death  had 
taken  place  in  Kentucky.  Unless  better  evidence  could  be 
found,  this  would  put  the  authorities  in  something  like  a 
dilemma,  since  a  man  can  only  once  be  placed  in  jeopardy. 
Fortune,  or  perhaps  the  conscience  of  a  colored  man,  came  to 
the  law’s  assistance. 

Jackson  was  the  name  of  the  most  guilty  of  the  two  mur¬ 
derers,  and  he  had  been  indicted  and  was  shortly  to  be 
arraigned  in  Jackson  county.  By  a  singular  coincidence  the 
name  of  the  new  witness  was  also  Jackson. 

On  the  afternoon  of  February  15th,  George  H.  Jackson, 


474 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


private  coachman  for  Major  Widdekind,  on  McGregor  Avenue, 
Mount  Auburn,  called  to  police  officer  Ed.  Swain,  who  was 
passing  where  he  was  at  work,  and  asked  if  the  missing  head  of 
Pearl  Bryan  had  been  found.  Informed  that  it  had  not  been 
found,  he  asked  if  they  had  discovered  the  coachman,  and  was 
told  no.  Then  he  fairly  startled  the  officers  by  asking  him 
this  question : 

“If  they  should  find  the  coachman  would  he  be  held  for  the 
crime  along  with  the  murderers?” 

Swain  diplomatically  replied  that  he  thought  not,  though 
this  would  of  course  depend  upon  the  part  the  driver  of  the 
vehicle  had  played  in  the  tragedy.  Thus  encouraged,  Jackson 
told  the  officer  his  story.  Later  he  repeated  his  remarkable 
narrative  to  Lieutenant  Thornton,  of  the  Mount  Auburn 
police,  and  that  night  told  exactly  the  same  story  to  the 
mayor.  Jackson  was  a  man  of  good  repute  in  Cincinnati.  On 
the  trial  an  effort  was  made  to  discredit  his  testimony,  but  it 
was  not  successful.  His  remarkable  story,  to  which  he  after¬ 
wards  adhered,  and  which  was  doubtless  true,  was  as  follows : 

He  was  drill-master  and  commander  of  the  Caldwell 
Guards,  a  colored  military  organization  of  Cincinnati.  On  the 
night  of  January  31st,  he  was  engaged  in  drilling  the  company 
until  about  midnight.  After  dismissing  the  guards  he  was 
standing  with  others  on  the  corner  of  George  and  Elm  streets, 
in  the  “Tenderloin  district,”  when  a  tall,  dark-haired  man, 
wearing  a  corduroy  cap,  came  up  and  said: 

“Do  any  of  you  fellows  want  to  make  five  dollars  by  driving 
a  carriage  to-night?” 

This  was  exactly  in  the  drill-master’s  line,  and  he  promptly 
accepted  the  offer.  In  a  few  minutes  a  square-boxed  surrey, 
drawn  by  a  gray  horse,  was  driven  up,  and  Jackson  mounted 
the  driver’s  box,  the  dark  man  taking  his  seat  beside  him. 
He  was  told  that  there  was  a  doctor  and  a  sick  woman  in  the 
surrey,  who  were  to  be  taken  to  Newport.  The  man  with  the 
corduroy  cap  directed  him  where  to  drive,  and  they  crossed  the 
bridge  over  the  Ohio  River  and  entered  Newport.  Jackson 
could  not  see  the  occupants  of  the  carriage  by  reason  of  a 
drawn  curtain,  but  he  heard  the  voice  of  a  man  proceed  from 


THE  PEARL  BRYAN  MURDER 


475 


the  vehicle,  and  what  he  described  as  a  “funny  noise  made  by 
a  woman.  ’  ’ 

After  driving  through  the  streets  of  Newport,  Jackson 
became  badly  frightened,  and  made  an  effort  to  jump  from  the 
box,  but  the  man  beside  him  placed  a  revolver  to  his  head,  and 
said: 

“You  drive  that  horse,  or  I’ll  make  an  end  of  you  very 
quickly.  ’  ’ 

The  man  took  his  name  and  asked  him  many  questions 
about  himself,  telling  him  afterwards  that  if  he  said  a  word  to 
any  one  about  the  transactions  of  the  night  he  would  kill  him, 
and  added: 

“If  we  get  into  any  trouble  we  have  friends  on  the  outside 
who  would  follow  you  up  and  kill  you  ’’ 

This  badly  frightened  Jackson.  After  the  arrest  of  the  two 
murderers  he  constantly  imagined  that  he  was  being  fol¬ 
lowed,  and  fear  kept  him  from  disclosing  what  had  occurred  to 
the  authorities. 

“The  man  on  the  seat  directed  me  how  to  go,”  he  said,  in 
his  statement  to  the  mayor.  “It  was  a  very  crooked  road. 
We  came  out  at  last,  where  they  told  me  to  stop.  There  were 
some  thickets  near  by.  They  said  the  house  where  the  woman 
was  to  go  was  not  very  far  away.  They  would  take  her  across 
there,  and  would  whistle  when  they  were  ready  to  go  back. 
They  told  me  to  turn  the  horse  around  and  wait  for  them. 
The  man  in  the  surrey  got  out  first  and  helped  the  woman. 
She  leaned  on  him  heavily,  and  as  she  walked  dragged  her 
feet.  It  was  too  dark  for  me  to  see  anything.  The  man  who 
got  out  of  the  surrey  was  not  as  tall  as  the  man  who  sat  by  me. 
The  man  got  off  his  seat  and  assisted  in  taking  the  woman 
away  in  the  darkness. 

“I  looked  for  a  hitching-block,  and  expected  to  find  a  round 
one ;  instead  of  that  I  found  a  piece  of  railway  rail  about  a  foot 
long,  with  two  holes  in  it.  I  hitched  the  horse  to  that  and 
waited  a  little  while.  I  heard  a  very  queer  noise,  something 
like  scuffling  in  the  leaves,  along  with  a  noise  that  I  cannot 
describe,  that  I  think  was  made  by  a  woman.  It  sounded  like 
a  woman’s  cry  in  distress.  I  remembered  the  strange  noise 


476 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


that  the  woman  had  been  making  all  the  way  out.  The  noise 
that  I  heard  in  the  thicket  frightened  me,  and  I  ran  away  as 
hard  as  I  could  run.  I  got  home  on  foot  about  4:30  o’clock  in 
the  morning. 

“I  didn’t  see  anything  more  of  them.  When  I  heard  of 
this  murder  I  thought  it  must  be  the  same  case.  I  was  afraid 
to  talk  on  account  of  the  threats  made.  At  last  I  thought  I 
ought  to  talk  about  it,  and  tell  all  I  knew.  I  did  not  see  any 
of  these  parties,  either  the  men  or  the  woman,  so  that  I  could 
recognize  their  faces.  The  man  on  the  seat  beside  me  had  a 
big  overcoat  on  him,  and  I  could  not  tell  whether  he  was 
slender  or  not.  All  three  wore  dark  clothing,  and  the  woman 
wore  a  veil  over  her  face.  Before  I  started  from  Cincinnati 
the  carriage  was  driven  to  me,  closed  all  around,  at  the  corner 
of  George  and  Elm  streets.” 

Late  that  night  Jackson  was  taken  to  the  jail  in  Cincin¬ 
nati,  and  without  the  slightest  hesitation  picked  Walling  out  of 
about  thirty  prisoners  who  had  been  hastily  assembled  to  test 
him.  After  looking  him  over  very  critically  for  a  minute  or 
two  he  declared:  “I  am  sure  this  is  the  man  who  was  on  the 
seat  with  me,  but  if  I  could  hear  his  voice  I  could  tell  better.” 
Walling  was  ordered  to  speak,  and  to  repeat  the  threats  Jack- 
son  claimed  he  had  made.  When  he  had  done  this  the  negro 
said: 

“That’s  his  voice,  only  it’s  a  little  stronger.” 

As  to  Scott  Jackson,  the  coachman  was  not  so  certain.  He 
had  only  seen  him  in  the  darkness,  and  could  not  select  him, 
but  he  pointed  to  several  men  of  about  his  size — Jackson  was 
five  feet  and  six  inches  in  height,  Walling  five  feet  and  nine 
inches.  When  Jackson  was  brought  forward  and  made  to 
speak,  the  negro  declared  that  his  voice  was  like  that  of  the 
man  in  the  surrey,  who  had  once  ordered  him  to  turn  around. 

The  next  day  detectives  Grim  and  McDermitt  discovered 
in  the  stable  of  the  Walnut  Hill  Cab  Company  a  rockaway  and 
a  gray  horse  that  had  been  let  out  on  the  night  of  the  murder 
to  a  man  answering  to  the  general  description  of  Walling. 
Jackson  did  not  at  first  recognize  this  as  the  vehicle  he  had 
driven  to  Fort  Thomas  at  the  muzzle  of  a  revolver,  but  when 


THE  PEARL  BRYAN  MURDER 


477 


a  curtain  was  adjusted  he  declared  it  to  be  the  same,  and  was 
about  equally  certain  as  to  the  horse. 

Late  that  night  a  procession  of  a  number  of  carriages,  filled 
with  police  officers  and  reporters,  started  from  Cincinnati  for 
the  scene  of  the  murder,  Jackson  taking  the  lead  with  the  gray 
horse  and  the  rockaway.  At  the  Newport  bridge  another  link 
in  the  awful  chain  of  evidence  was  forged.  Toll-collector 
Tarvin  said  he  remembered  that  a  surrey  driven  by  a  colored 
man  passed  over  the  bridge  about  one  o’clock  on  the  morning 
of  February  ist.  It  contained  a  man  and  a  woman,  and  a 
white  man  sat  beside  the  driver. 

Jackson  stopped  his  horse  about  two  hundred  yards  from 
the  spot  where  the  body  was  found.  “Here,”  said  he,  “is 
where  they  left  me  with  the  woman.”  Standing  there  he 
dramatically  repeated  his  story.  When  he  mentioned  having 
hitched  the  horse  to  the  short  piece  of  railway  iron,  one  of  the 
officers  suddenly  recalled  the  circumstance  that  the  bloody  coat 
of  Jackson,  found  in  the  catch -basin  at  the  corner  of  John  and 
Richmond  streets,  was  wrapped  about  a  piece  of  railway  iron 
that  exactly  corresponded  to  the  negro’s  description  of  the  one 
to  which  the  gray  horse  was  hitched,  when  he  ran  away  from 
the  scene  of  the  awful  murder.  What  gave  this  incident  great 
force  was  the  circumstance  that  no  mention  of  the  railroad 
iron  had  been  made  in  any  of  the  papers,  and  Jackson  could 
not  have  heard  of  it. 

A  few  days  after  the  murder  the  keeper  of  a  disreputable 
house  in  Cincinnati  called  at  police  headquarters  and  told  the 
officer  in  charge  that  on  the  night  of  Sunday,  February  2d,  a 
man  had  come  to  her  house  and  left  a  pair  of  bloody  overshoes 
under  a  sofa.  These  shoes  were  found  to  exactly  fit  Walling, 
and  the  woman  positively  identified  him  as  the  man  who  had 
left  them  in  her  place. 

The  statement  of  the  colored  coachman  produced  a  decided 
effect  upon  Will  Wood,  who  was  then  in  jail.  He  had  been 
decidedly  reticent,  but  on  February  20th  he  made  a  full  state¬ 
ment  of  his  connection  with  the  affair.  He  had  destroyed  all 
the  letters  received  from  Jackson,  but  had  read  them  so  fre¬ 
quently  and  attentively  that  he  claimed  he  accurately  remem- 


478 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


bered  their  contents.  He  repeated  two  of  them.  The  first 
ran  as  follows: 

“Hello,  Bill.  I  expect  yon  think  I  have  forgotten  you,  but 
I  haven’t.  I  have  been  awfully  busy  this  week.  I  have  not 
been  over  to  Kentucky  yet,  so  you  may  know  that  I  have  been 
very  busy.  I  work  all  day  in  the  college,  and  then  in  the  dis¬ 
secting  room,  so  you  see  I  am  busy  for  sure.  Well,  for  busi¬ 
ness.  Tell  Bert  to  come  on.  I  have  a  very  nice  room  with  a 
very  nice  old  lady.  A  friend  of  Walling  is  going  to  do  the 
work,  an  old  hand  at  the  biz.  We  go  to  his  house  to-night  for 
supper.  He  is  a  chemist.  I  think  I  will  have  enough  money, 
but  tell  Bert  to  bring  all  she  can,  for  it  may  come  handy. 
Tell  her  to  leave  G.  C.  so  as  to  get  here  Monday  night.  Tell 
her  she  can  go  home  in  four  or  five  days.  Push  it  along. 
Don’t  go  back  on  me  now  when  I  am  this  near  out  of  my 
trouble.  Be  sure  and  burn  this  as  soon  as  read.  Your  chum, 
always.  D.  ” 

Wood  gave  the  second  letter  in  these  words: 

“Hello,  Bill.  Be  awful  careful  what  you  say.  I  am 
expecting  trouble.  Oh,  Lord,  stand  by  me.  Do  you  think 
Doc  wTill?  Write  him.  I  made  a  big  mistake,  and  it’s  going 
to  get  me  in  trouble.  Don’t  forsake  me  now.  Now  is  when 
I  need  you  most.  Write  Doc.  He’ll  stand  up  for  me,  won’t 
he?  Say,  Bill,  I  wish  I  had  never  seen  that  girl  and  never 

seen  G.  C. - my  tough  luck  anyway.  Be  sure  and  burn 

this.  Don’t  let  any  one  see  it.  Now,  Bill,  stand  by  your  old 
chum.  D.  ” 

The  two  prisoners  were  granted  separate  trials.  That  of 
Scott  Jackson  began  in  Newport  on  April  22d,  1896,  and  lasted 
three  weeks.  Commonwealth  Attorney  A.  R.  Lockhart  con¬ 
ducted  the  prosecution.  He  had  several  assistants,  among 
them  Attorney  Playes  of  Greencastle,  who  was  employed  and 
paid  by  Pearl  Bryan’s  father,  A.  S.  Bryan.  Col.  L.  J.  Craw¬ 
ford  defended  Jackson.  He  made  a  strong  effort  to  show  that 
Miss  Bryan  had  died  in  Cincinnati  and  her  body  been  brought 
to  Kentucky  after  life  was  extinct,  but  in  this  he  failed.  A 
strong  attack  was  made  upon  the  testimony  of  George  H. 
Jackson,  several  colored  men  swearing  that  they  had  been  in 
his  company  until  two  o’clock  on  the  Morning  of  February  1st. 


THE  PEARL  BRYAN  MURDER 


479 


But  Colonel  Crawford’s  defense,  though  the  best  that  could 
have  been  presented,  proved  unavailing,  and  on  May  14th 
Scott  Jackson  was  found  guilty  of  the  murder  of  Pearl  Bryan 
and  sentenced  to  death.  Alonzo  Walling  took  a  change  of 
venue  to  an  adjoining  county,  where  he  was  tried  soon  after¬ 
wards,  found  guilty  and  also  sentenced  to  death.  He  was 
brought  back  to  Newport  and  placed  in  jail  to  await  execution. 

The  condemned  men  had  friends  and  appeals  were  taken 
to  the  Supreme  Court  of  Kentucky.  New  trials  were  denied, 
and  they  were  sentenced  to  be  hanged  on  March  20,  1897. 
Great  efforts  were  made  to  save  their  lives,  strong  appeals 
being  made  to  Governor  Bradley  for  a  commutation  of  sen¬ 
tence  to  imprisonment  for  life.  But  the  chief  executive  stead¬ 
fastly  declined  to  interfere  with  the  course  of  justice.  Especial 
efforts  were  made  in  behalf  of  Walling.  It  was  claimed  that 
he  was  a  weak  man  mentally,  that  he  had  no  motive  to  commit 
the  crime,  and  had  been  led,  forced,  into  it,  by  the  dominant 
will  of  Jackson. 

As  the  day  fixed  for  their  execution  drew  near,  the  papers 
were  full  of  alleged  confessions,  made  and  shortly  to  be  made, 
by  the  two  men,  each  of  whom  continued  to  throw  the  blame 
upon  the  other.  On  the  morning  of  the  execution  Jackson 
made  a  statement  to  the  effect  that  Walling  was  innocent,  but 
learning  that,  in  no  event,  would  this  secure  clemency  for 
himself,  he  withdrew  the  confession,  and  stubbornly  main¬ 
tained  his  own  entire  innocence. 

The  sheriff  had  arranged  to  have  the  hanging  take  place  at 
seven  o’clock  in  the  morning,  but,  thinking  that  Governor 
Bradley  might  grant  a  respite  upon  Jackson’s  confession 
exonerating  Walling,  he  delayed  matters  for  some  two  hours, 
when,  learning  that  clemency  would  not  be  extended,  he 
ordered  the  execution  to  proceed. 

Both  men  met  their  fate  with  seeming  indifference,  the 
stoicism  that  had  attended  them  since  the  hour  of  their  arrest 
remaining  until  the  last.  From  the  scaffold  they  both  asserted 
their  innocence.  Asked  if  he  had  anything  to  say,  Jackson 
replied:  “Only  this;  I  am  not  guilty  of  the  crime  for  which  I 
am  now  supposed  to  pay  the  penalty  of  the  law.” 


480 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


To  the  same  question  Walling  replied:  “Nothing  to  say, 
only  you  are  about  to  take  the  life  of  an  innocent  man.  I  call 
upon  God  to  be  my  witness.” 

With  this  falsehood  upon  their  lips,  the  two  hardened 
wretches  shot  through  the  double  trap  and  met  death  by  slow 
strangulation. 

Nothing  had  ever  stirred  the  people  of  Cincinnati  and  the 
country  surrounding  to  compare  with  the  Pearl  Bryan  tragedy, 
and  almost  universal  satisfaction  was  manifested  when  the 
murderers  suffered  the  extreme  penalty  of  the  law.  All  the 
parties  were'  young;  Jackson  was  twenty-eight,  Walling 
twenty-one,  while  their  fair  victim  was  twenty-two  years  of 
age.  Whether  Jackson  designed  to  murder  the  girl  when  he 
induced  her  to  come  to  Cincinnati  will  never  be  known, 
though  the  brutal  manner  in  which  he  took  her  life  argues 
that  the  impulse  to  kill  was  strongly  developed  in  him.  The 
case  of  Walling  is  even  more  doubtful.  He  had  no  object, 
other  than  friendship  for  Jackson,  to  engage  in  the  most 
unnatural  crime.  It  is  said  that  the  formation  of  his  skull 
bore  a  remarkable  resemblance  to  that  of  the  wholesale  mur¬ 
derer  and  monster,  H.  H.  Holmes,  whose  hideous  crimes  are 
detailed  elsewhere  in  the  present  volume. 

There  seems  to  have  been  a  strong  affinity  between  these 
two  young  men,  and  that  it  arose  from  a  common  lack  of  all 
moral  principle,  a  fiendish  and  most  unnatural  disposition, 
cannot  well  be  doubted.  Neither  of  them  ever  manifested  the 
slightest  remorse,  and  it  is  not  likely  that  they  felt  any.  Both 
came  from  normal  and  respectable  parents,  and  the  ordinary 
rules  of  degeneracy  can  scarcely  be  applied  to  them.  The 
light  regard  in  which  they  held  human  life  and  the  brutal 
manner  in  which  they  consummated  the  terrible  crime,  argue 
that  they  were  both  victims  of  the  homicidal  impulse. 


PEARL  BRYAN  ANI)  HER  MURDERERS.  —  PAGE  475 


.• 


I 


\ 


K 


CHAPTER  XXVII 


THE  GULDENSUPPE  TRAGEDY 

“Truth  is  stranger  than  fiction.”  Thus  runs  thft  old 
aphorism,  to  which  may  well  be  added  the  statement  that 
crime  is  often  as  artificial,  as  extravagant,  as  unreasonable,  as 
the  weirdest  tale  told  by  the  cheapest  and  most  sensational  of 
novel-writers.  This  may  well  be  chargeable  to  two  causes. 
The  novelist  copies  nature,  endeavors  to  make  his  narrative 
plausible,  probable  even,  by  studying  history  and  following 
precedents.  On  the  other  hand,  the  criminal  often  copies  fic¬ 
tion,  taking  his  cue,  his  entire  plan  sometimes,  from  a  sensa¬ 
tional  novel.  Thus  fact  and  fiction  act  and  react  upon  each 
other;  thus  fact  is  often  quite  as  strange  as  fiction,  the  details 
of  a  crime  more  gruesome  and,  from  the  standpoint  of  a  prac¬ 
tical  man,  as  unreasonable,  as  incomprehensible,  as  the  wildest 
plot  evolved  in  the  mind  of  a  sensational  story-writer. 

The  Guldensuppe  tragedy,  enacted  in  New  York  in  1897, 
might  well  have  been  a  drama,  written  for  the  boards  of  a 
third-class  theatre,  where  morbid  tastes  are  catered  to  and 
probabilities  disregarded.  Lust,  cupidity,  revenge — three  of 
the  strongest  motives  that  lead  to  the  commission  of  infamous 
crimes — were  all  present,  and  strangely  blended.  All  the 
actors  in  this  fearful  tragedy  belonged  to  the  lower,  the  vicious 
and  reckless  walks  of  life,  and  it  seems  altogether  probable 
that  fiction  of  the  “half -dime-library”  variety  suggested  the 
means  employed  for  perpetrating  the  revolting  crime  and  dis¬ 
posing  of  the  murdered  man’s  remains. 

The  Guldensuppe  case  is,  however,  remarkably  like  two  of 
the  most  famous  murders  ever  perpetrated  in  this  country,  set 
forth  at  length  in  the  present  volume,  and,  but  for  the  ignor¬ 
ance  of  the  principal  actors,  might  well  have  been  inspired  by 

48 1 


482 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


them.  As  in  the  Cronin  case,  a  house  was  rented  for  the  sole 
purpose  of  committing  the  crime,  and  the  victim  lured  there 
to  meet  his  death,  while  the  method  adopted  for  disposing  of 
the  remains  suggested  those  employed  by  Dr.  Webster  half  a 
century  ago  in  Boston. 

No  elaborately  planned  murder,  the  details  of  which  were 
worked  out  in  exact  accordance  with  the  prearranged  pro¬ 
gramme,  was  ever  more  quickly  discovered,  more  completely 
laid  bare. 

On  the  afternoon  of  Saturday,  June  26,  1897,  two  adven¬ 
turous  boys,  James  McKenna  and  John  McGuire,  thirteen  and 
fourteen  years  old  respectively,  were  running  the  chance  of 
arrest  by  swimming  in  the  East  River,  near  the  foot  of 
Eleventh  street,  New  York.  Suddenly  they  saw  a  bit  of  flot¬ 
sam  in  the  shape  of  a  corded  package  floating  in  the  river,  well 
out  from  the  pier,  towards  which  they  at  once  swam.  Bring¬ 
ing  it  to  the  pier,  they  dressed  themselves  and  proceeded  to 
open  it.  They  were  horrified  at  discovering  what,  even  to 
their  inexperienced  eyes,  was  plainly  a  mass  of  human  flesh, 
and  shouted  lustily  for  the  police.  An  officer  appeared,  drove 
the  boys  away,  and  hastily  examined  their  gruesome  “find.” 

This  consisted  of  the  upper  portion  of  a  human  body.  It 
had  been  thrice  wrapped ;  first  in  a  piece  of  cheese-cloth,  then 
in  a  bright  red  and  gold  oil-cloth,  lastly  in  a  heavy  brown 
paper.  From  the  breast  of  the  trunk  quite  a  large  portion  of 
the  skin  had  been  flayed  away.  No  thought  of  murder  crossed 
the  mind  of  the  policeman,  who  set  it  down  as  one  of  those 
senseless,  horrible  pranks  so  often  played  by  medical  students. 
He  re-wrapped  the  fearful  object  and  conveyed  it  to  the 
morgue. 

The  next  day  Herbert  and  Edgar  Meyer,  the  thirteen  and 
eight  year  old  boys  of  Julius  Meyer,  accompanied  their  father 
to  Ogden’s  Woods,  on  the  Harlem  River,  above  the  Washing¬ 
ton  bridge.  While  searching  for  berries  the  boys  came  upon 
a  neatly-wrapped  bundle  in  the  woods,  and  shouted  for  their 
father.  Removing  a  brown  paper,  oil-cloth  and  cheese-cloth, 
the  astonished  man  discovered  the  lower  portion  of  a  human 
body.  Taken  to  the  morgue,  it  was  found  to  exactly  fit  the 


/ 


THE  GULDENSUPPE  TRAGEDY  483 


chest  already  there.  The  wrappings  which  had  enclosed  the 
two  portions  were  identical,  they  had  been  found  many  miles 
apart,  no  doubt  remaining  but  that  an  awful  crime  had  been 
committed. 

The  police  system  of  New  York  City  is  an  admirable  one. 
In  some  noted  cases,  like  that  of  the  Nathan  murder,  it  has 
failed  to  detect  the  perpetrators  of  outrageous  crimes,  but  it  is 
composed  of  shrewd  and  experienced  men  who  seldom  fail  in 
their  work,  particularly  where  tell-tale  clues  are  actually 
thrust  upon  them. 

The  mutilated  remains  were  first  critically  examined  by 
seven  of  the  most  famous  medical  and  surgical  experts  of  the 
metropolis.  They  determined  that  the  body  was  that  of  a 
man  between  thirty-five  and  forty  years  of  age,  weighing  from 
165  to  170  pounds,  his  probable  height  being  five  feet  and 
from  eight  to  ten  inches.  The  muscles,  which  were  well 
developed,  indicated  a  large  amount  of  exercise,  while  the 
absence  of  callosities  on  his  well-formed  hands,  showed  that 
he  had  not  been  engaged  in  any  kind  of  hard  manual  labor. 
Death  had  been  sudden,,  and  not  the  result  of  illness  or  drown¬ 
ing. 

The  dismemberment  had  been  skilfully  done,  and  seemed 
to  indicate  some  knowledge  of  anatomy  on  the  part  of  the 
operator.  The  lower  portion  of  the  body  was  separated  below 
the  fifth  rib,  and  carried  with  it  the  upper  part  of  the  legs. 
Evidences  of  haste  were  manifest,  but  the  work  had  not  been 
bunglingly  executed.  On  one  of  the  fingers  there  was  the  scar 
of  an  old  surgical  operation. 

Great  mysteries  put  the  newspapers  of  the  country  on  their 
mettle.  In  the  professional  opinion  of  the  author,  reporters 
often  do  irreparable  injury  to  criminal  cases  by  making  prema¬ 
ture  disclosures  and  putting  suspected  persons  upon  their 
guard.  In  this  case,  however,  their  work  ably  seconded  that 
of  the  police  department. 

Late  on  the  evening  of  Monday,  June  28th,  a  reporter  for 
the  Journal ,  in  a  bar-room  at  672  Third  Avenue,  overheard 
two  “rubbers”  in  the  Murry  Hill  Turkish  Baths  talking  of  the 
mysterious  headless  trunk,  which  had  set  all  New  York  agog. 


I 


484  MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 

In  conclusion  one  of  them  casually  remarked :  “Willie  hasn’t 
been  to  work  to-day.’’ 

“Not  since  Friday,”  the  other  added.  “I  wonder  what  he’s 
up  to.” 

This  reporter  had  a  nose  for  news ;  besides,  it  occurred  to 
him  that  the  strong  muscles  and  white  hands  now  in  the 
morgue  might  well  have  suited  the  calling  of  the  two  men 
whose  idle  conversation  he  had  heard.  He  lost  no  time  in 
reaching  the  Murry  Hill  Baths.  There  he  learned  that  the 
man  spoken  of  as  “Willie”  was  William  Guldensuppe,  a 
masseur  in  the  baths.  He  had  been  absent  since  the  preced¬ 
ing  Friday,  and  the  superintendent  knew  nothing  of  the  cause, 
though  a  woman  had  called  to  say  that  he  had  given  up  his 
situation. 

Guldensuppe  had  been  long  employed  there,  and  the 
reporter  had  no  trouble  in  securing  an  accurate  description  of 
his  person,  since  he  had  worked  there  in  an  almost  nude  con¬ 
dition.  This  corresponded  remarkably  well  with  that  of  the 
surgeons  who  had  examined  the  mutilated  remains  at  the 
morgue,  and  the  conjecture  became  almost  a  certainty  when 
the  reporter  learned  that  the  missing  man,  who  had  once  been 
a  sailor,  had  the  head  and  bust  of  a  woman  tattooed  upon  his 
breast,  and  that  a  felon  on  the  forefinger  of  his  left  hand  had 
left  a  bad  scar. 

As  a  rule  reporters  are  not  diffident.  About  one  o’clock  on 
the  morning  of  Tuesday  this  one  was  ringing  the  door-bell  of  a 
flat  at  No.  439  Ninth  avenue,  the  residence  of  a  German  mid¬ 
wife,  known  as  Mrs.  Augusta  Nack,  where  the  missing  Gul¬ 
densuppe  had  been  living  for  the  past  eighteen  months.  At 
length  the  midwife,  who  was  completely  dressed,  responded 
to  his  repeated  ringings  and  admitted  him. 

The  reporter  claimed  to  be  a  friend  of  Guldensuppe  who 
had  some  work  for  him.  The  woman  talked  quite  freely. 
William  had  dressed  himself  in  his  best  clothes  on  Friday 
morning,  secured  fifty  dollars  from  her  and  gone  away,  since 
which  time  she  had  not  seen  him.  She  ridiculed  the  sug¬ 
gestion  that  he  might  be  dead  and  said  that  she  didn’t  care  if 
he  were,  since  he  was  too  much  taken  with  other  women. 


THE  GULDENSUPPE  TRAGEDY  485 


Mrs.  Nack,  a  large,  voluptuous-looking  woman  of  middle 
age,  declared  that  she  had  detected  William  in  the  act  of  mak¬ 
ing  an  appointment  with  a  woman  friend  of  hers,  since  which 
moment  her  love  for  him  had  departed.  She  claimed  to  have 
received  a  note  from  him  after  his  departure,  also  a  telegram, 
both  of  which  she  had  destroyed.  He  had  also  visited  the  flat 
during  her  absence,  as  was  evidenced  by  a  collar  he  had  worn 
away. 

In  the  meantime,  five  employes  of  the  bath-room  visited 
the  morgue  and  positively  identified  the  remains  as  those  of 
William  Guldensuppe,  as  also  did  a  physician  who  had,  a  few 
months  before,  operated  on  his  finger  for  a  felon,  and  who 
knew  the  scar. 

Mrs.  Nack  was  not  immediately  arrested,  though  she  was  at 
once  placed  under  strict  police  surveillance.  In  the  meantime, 
much  of  her  antecedents  and  recent  history  was  brought  to 
light. 

It  was  learned  that  she  had  long  been  a  grossly  immoral 
woman,  who  seemed  to  possess  a  strange  attraction  for  men. 
She  had  married  Herman  Nack  some  years  before,  but  her 
continual  amours  had  caused  him  to  leave  her.  Although 
unlicensed,  she  carried  on  the  business  of  a  midwife,  and, 
being  altogether  unscrupulous  in  her  methods,  made  consider¬ 
able  money. 

In  1893  a  dapper  little  barber,  known  as  Martin  Thom,  but 
whose  real  name  was  Torzewski,  came  to  board  with  her  at 
No.  629  Ninth  avenue.  Two  years  later  Guldensuppe  also 
came  to  board  with  her.  Both  men  were  violently  infatuated 
with  the  false  wife,  and  many  quarrels  ensued.  It  was  at  this 
time  that  Nack  took  his  departure.  After  this  the  stalwart 
Guldensuppe  turned  the  little  barber  out  of  the  house,  and 
removed  with  Mrs.  Nack  to  No.  439  Ninth  avenue.  This  was 
about  the  close  of  1895. 

But  Martin  Thorn  retained  a  place  in  the  affections  of  the 
depraved  woman,  and  visited  her  at  night  when  the  masseur 
was  at  work.  Guldensuppe  earned  only  ten  dollars  a  week, 
but  Mrs.  Nack  supplied  him  quite  liberally  with  money.  She 
also  gave  Thorn  money,  usually  small  sums.  Finally  the  two 


486 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


men  met  in  the  flat,  and  the  fight  ensued  in  which  the  barber 
was  badly  beaten  by  the  masseur  and  forcibly  ejected  from  the 
place.  The  former  swore  to  have  revenge.  In  the  mean¬ 
time,  the  midwife  became  violently  jealous  of  Guldensuppe. 
Thus  arose  the  three-fold  motive  to  commit  the  awful  crime — 
revenge,  jealousy,  and  the  desire  to  have  the  spending  of  the 
woman’s  quite  large  income. 

In  the  days  that  followed  the  discovery  of  the  remains,  the 
police  were  very  active,  scores  of  men  being  employed  on  the 
case.  The  oil-cloth  in  which  the  dismembered  body  had  been 
wrapped  was  identified  as  “Diamond  B,  No.  3220,’’  made  by 
H.  F.  Buchanan.  Through  the  wholesale  house  this  oil-cloth 
was  traced  to  hundreds  of  stores  in  New  York.  After  a  long 
search  the  detectives  found  the  particular  shop  where  the 
oil-cloth  had  been  sold.  It  was  in  Jane  street,  Astoria,  and 
was  kept  by  Max  Rigor.  Mrs.  Rigor  remembered  that  on  the 
day  when  Guldensuppe  disappeared  she  had  sold  a  piece  of 
this  particular  pattern  to  a  stout  German  woman,  who  had  also 
purchased  six  yards  of  white  ticking.  Mrs.  Rigor  positively 
identified  Mrs.  Nack  as  the  purchaser. 

Directly  after  the  call  of  the  reporter,  the  frightened 
woman  had  begun  preparations  for  flight,  and  when  the  detect¬ 
ives  called  on  Wednesday  morning  they  found  the  flat  in  the 
utmost  confusion.  A  search  revealed  a  broken  saw,  a  pistol 
and  a  stained  knife. 

Just  at  that  time  the  missing  legs  of  the  murdered  man 
were  discovered  floating  near  the  Cobb  dock,  at  the  Brooklyn 
Navy  Yard.  Here,  for  the  third  time,  small  boys  were  the 
finders.  Some  lads  saw  a  floating  package  and  called  the 
attention  of  sailors  on  the  Vermont  to  it.  The  dismembered 
legs  were  wrapped  in  the  white  duck  and  oil-cloth  that  Mrs. 
Nack  had  purchased  in  Jane  street.  The  legs  exactly  fitted 
the  trunk,  and  the  identification  was  complete,  although  the 
head  was  never  discovered. 

A  long  examination  of  the  midwife,  who  was  now  taken 
into  custody,  led  to  no  disclosures  of  value  to  the  police.  As 
a  climax  she  was  suddenly  confronted  with  the  recently 
recovered  limbs  of  her  late  lover.  But  the  dramatic  incident 


THE  GULDENSUPPE  TRAGEDY  487 


was  barren  of  results,  not  a  tremor  crossed  the  woman’s  hard 
face.  On  July  1st  she  was  arraigned  in  the  Jefferson  Market 
Police  Court,  and  remanded  to  the  custody  of  the  police 
in  the  station.  The  next  day  eight  sheets  of  brown  paper, 
like  that  in  which  the  remains  had  been  wrapped,  were  found 
in  her  flat. 

The  fact  of  the  murder  was  now  clear,  and  the  place  where 
it  had  been  committed  became  the  great  question.  Employes 
of  the  Murry  Hill  Bath  House  remembered  that  William  had 
told  them  that  he  and  Mrs.  Nack  contemplated  the  establish¬ 
ment  of  a  baby  farm  at  Woodside,  Long  Island.  This  consti¬ 
tuted  a  clue.  Arriving  at  Woodside  the  officers  found  much  of 
their  work  already  done,  since  all  had  read  the  morning 
papers  and  notes  of  observation  had  been  diligently  compared. 

Some  days  before  the  murder,  a  man  named  Haftner,  who 
had  charge  of  a  vacant  cottage  at  Woodside,  which  is  near 
Brooklyn,  and  who  lived  near  by,  rented  it  to  a  man  and  a 
woman  who  gave  the  name  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Braun.  The 
description  given  tallied  exactly  with  those  of  Thorn  and  Mrs. 
Nack;  besides,  “Braun”  was  one  of  the  little  barber’s  aliases. 

The  “Brauns”  were  seen  to  twice  visit  the  cottage  on  Fri¬ 
day,  June  25th.  Once  they  alighted  from  a  trolley  car,  and 
carried  a  roll  of  oil-cloth  into  the  unfurnished  house.  Neigh¬ 
bors  saw  two  men  enter  the  cottage  that  morning,  at  different 
times,  and  only  one  leave  it.  On  Friday  afternoon  a  man  and 
a  woman,  each  carrying  a  bundle,  departed  together.  The 
following  day  the  “Brauns”  twice  visited  the  cottage  on  Long 
Island.  In  the  morning  they  came  on  the  trolley  car  and  in 
the  afternoon  in  a  surrey,  which  Mrs.  Nack  had  hired  from  an 
undertaker.  Each  time  they  carried  away  heavy  bundles. 

Entering  the  cottage,  the  detectives  saw  no  visible  marks 
of  blood  and  nothing  to  indicate  that  a  crime  had  been  com¬ 
mitted  there,  beyond  the  circumstance  that  the  meter  showed 
that  an  enormous  quantity  of  water — 40,000  gallons — had  been 
used  since  it  was  last  occupied.  This  was  utilized  in  carrying 
away  the  blood  resulting  from  dismembering  the  remains  of 
the  murdered  man. 

A  day  or  two  after  the  murder  Martin  Thorn  disappeared 


488 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


and  the  police  were  unable  to  find  him.  He  was  supposed  to 
have  left  the  city,  and  his  description  was  telegraphed  to  all 
parts  of  the  country  and  even  to  foreign  ports,  where  he  might 
well  be  expected  to  land  from  a  steamship.  He  had  not  left 
New  York,  however,  but  was  in  hiding  on  the  East  Side, 
securing  a  room  at  No.  235  East  Twenty-fifth  street. 

He  was  unknown  there,  and  might,  very  possibly,  have 
avoided  arrest,  but  for  one  thing — he  was  a  murderer.  He 
soon  became  restless,  and  his  room  assumed  the  aspect  of  a 
prison.  He  formed  some  acquaintances  in  the  neighborhood, 
and  spent  a  good  deal  of  his  time  playing  penuchle  in  saloons. 
After  a  time  he  ventured  into  the  neighborhood  of  his  old 
haunts  on  the  West  Side.  On  Monday,  July  5th,  he  called  on 
an  old  friend,  John  Gotha,  a  barber  like  himself,  who  knew 
something  of  his  relations  with  Mrs.  Nack  and  Thorn.  That 
afternoon  he  met  Gotha  at  a  saloon,  and  made  a  confession  of 
the  fearful  crime  he  had  committed. 

He  had  rented  the  cottage  at  Woodside  and  gone  there 
quite  early  in  the  day  on  June  25th,  to  await  the  coming  of  his 
victim,  who  was  to  be  lured  to  the  place  by  Mrs.  Nack  under 
the  pretense  that  she  wished  him  to  look  at  the  premises  she 
had  rented.  Thorn  went  about  the  matter  as  if  it  were  an 
affair  of  every-day  occurrence.  To  avoid  staining  his  cloth¬ 
ing,  he  removed  all  garments  except  his  undershirt  and  socks, 
and  awaited  the  appearance  of  his  victim. 

About  eleven  o’clock  Guldensuppe  came  with  Mrs.  Nack. 
She  gave  him  the  key  that  he  might  enter  and  survey  the 
premises,  while  she  remained  outside.  When  Guldensuppe 
ascended  to  the  upper  floor  the  waiting  and  revengeful  barber 
shot  him  twice  in  the  head,  killing  him  instantly.  This  done, 
he  announced  the  circumstance  to  his  accomplice,  who  left  the 
premises  after  viewing  the  remains. 

Thorn  spent  several  hours  in  dismembering  the  body  and 
tying  it  up  in  neat  packages,  employing  the  oil-cloth,  duck  and 
wrapping  paper  that  Mrs.  Nack  had  purchased.  He  also 
removed  the  tattooed  face  from  the  breast.  About  five  o’clock 
Mrs.  Nack  returned,  and  they  departed  for  New  York,  the 
woman  carrying  the  clothes  of  the  murdered  man,  her  com- 


THE  GULDENSUPPE  TRAGEDY  489 


panion  his  head,  which  was  encased  in  a  mass  of  plaster  of 
paris.  They  crossed  the  river  on  a  ferry-boat,  and  Thorn 
dropped  the  package  containing  the  head  into  the  water,  where 
it  doubtless  sank  from  view.  Mrs.  Nack  took  the  bundle  of 
clothing  home  to  her  flat,  where  she  burned  it. 

The  following  day  they  twice  visited  the  cottage  and  carried 
away  the  three  remaining  bundles.  Two  of  these  Thorn 
dropped  into  the  river  and  conveyed  the  third  in  the  surrey 
to  Ogden’s  Woods. 

The  police  were  already  watching  Thorn,  for  John  Gotha 
had  communicated  with  them,  and  soon  after  making  the  con¬ 
fession  he  was  taken  into  custody.  To  the  officers  he  denied 
having  made  any  confession,  and  told  a  somewhat  lame  story 
explaining  his  relations  with  Mrs.  Nack,  at  the  same  time  pro¬ 
testing  his  innocence  of  the  crime.  On  July  8th  the  two  guilty 
accomplices  were  confronted  by  Gotha  and  six  other  wit¬ 
nesses,  as  a  result  of  which  they  were  committed  to  await  the 
action  of  the  Queen’s  county  grand  jury. 

Martin  Thorn  was  brought  to  trial  on  November  8,  1897. 
The  facts  as  here  briefly  set  forth  were  presented  by  the  vari¬ 
ous  parties,  and,  in  addition,  Mrs.  Nack  took  the  stand  as  one 
of  the  State’s  witnesses.  For  the  most  part  her  story  agreed 
with  the  confession  that  the  prisoner  had  made  to  Gotha.  She 
claimed,  however,  that  she  had  been  influenced  by  fear  of 
Thorn,  and  not  by  any  affection  that  she  bore  him.  Thorn 
hated  Guldensuppe  bitterly,  and  was  resolved  to  take  his  life. 
Wicked  as  the  woman  had  been,  she  was  doubtless  over¬ 
whelmed  with  remorse;  she  claimed  that  a  guilty  conscience 
had  forced  her  to  tell  the  truth,  and  that  she  did  it  without  any 
understanding  or  hope  of  clemency.  Her  testimony,  which 
occupied  three  hours,  was  the  sensation  of  the  trial,  and 
seemed  to  settle  the  case  of  her  accomplice. 

But  fate  interfered  to  respite  Martin  Thorn;  Juror  Mangus 
Larsen  became  ill,  and,  not  speedily  recovering,  a  mis-trial 
resulted. 

Three  weeks  later  Thorn  was  again  brought  to  the  bar  of 
Queen’s  county,  being,  as  on  the  previous  occasion,  defended 
by  William  F.  Howe,  the  well-known  criminal  lawyer  of  New 


490 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


York.  The  same  witnesses  were  introduced,  with  the  excep¬ 
tion  of  Mrs.  Nack,  who  did  not  take  the  stand.  On  November 
30th,  the  last  day  of  the  trial,  Thorn  was  sworn  and  testified 
in  his  own  behalf.  He  admitted  that  he  had  assisted  in  the 
awful  transaction,  but  claimed  that  he  had  only  acted  as  an 
accessory  of  Mrs.  Nack,  who  had  herself  shot  Guldensuppe. 
According  to  his  story,  the  woman  had  ascribed  to  him  the 
part  she  had  herself  played  in  the  hideous  tragedy.  He  had 
assisted  her  to  place  the  body  in  the  bath-tub,  and  had  held  it 
while  she  did  the  work  of  dismembering  it. 

The  jury  promptly  found  the  defendant  guilty,  but  sentence 
was  deferred  until  the  following  Friday,  when  the  penalty  of 
death  was  imposed.  After  the  trial  Thorn  is  said  to  have 
made  the  following  statement : 

“I  am  glad  it  is  over  and  the  verdict  given.  I  am  con¬ 
victed  and  am  contented.  It  was  I  who  killed  Guldensuppe, 
and  I  believe  every  word  Mrs.  Nack  said  upon  the  stand  was 
substantially  correct.  When  I  was  on  the  stand  I  lied  when 
telling  the  story  as  I  did,  but  I  lied  to  clear  myself.  It  is  no 
use  carrying  it  any  further.  I  am  guilty  and  convicted.  It 
is  what  I  expected,  and  what  I  suppose  people  think  I  deserve, 
and  perhaps  I  do.  ” 

Mrs.  Augusta  Nack  pleaded  guilty  to  the  indictment 
against  her,  and  was  committed  to  prison  for  fifteen  years. 
To  the  candid  mind  she  was  as  guilty  as  Thorn,  but  her  sex 
and  her  confession  doubtless  worked  together  to  secure 
clemency. 

Martin  Torzewski,  alias  Thorn,  was  electrocuted  at  Sing 
Sing  on  August  1,  1898.  During  his  long  imprisonment  he 
spent  much  of  his  time  in  reading  and  conversing  with  his 
spiritual  adviser.  He  seemed  fully  prepared  for  death,  and 
was,  much  of  the  time,  in  a  state  of  apparent  spiritual  exalta¬ 
tion.  But  this  deserted  him  in  the  last  hour,  and  he  died  in  a 
condition  of  the  most  abject  terror.  A  current  of  1,950  volts, 
10  amperes,  was  employed,  and  death  was  practically  instan¬ 
taneous. 

While  revenge  was  doubtless  the  leading  motive  that  led  to 
the  commission  of  this  crime,  the  homicidal  impulse  was  no 


N 


THE  GULDENSUPPE  TRAGEDY 


491 


doubt  present.  It  is  shown  by  the  comparatively  slight 
provocation  and  the  elaborate  details  of  the  plan,  which  argues 
a  sort  of  fiendish  pleasure  in  the  plotters.  Besides,  the  face 
of  Mrs.  Nack  was  decidedly  and  distinctively  depraved; 
indeed,  it  corresponded  almost  exactly  with  the  ideal  criminal 
face  presented  by  Lombroso.  That  she  was  vicious  and 
depraved  her  own  life  abundantly  proved,  and  it  seems  not 
unlikely  that  the  impulse  to  kill  was  present  in  her  heart, 
since,  notwithstanding  her  own  statement,  and  Thorn’s 
admissions  of  its  correctness,  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  she 
was  the  leading  spirit  in  the  dark  and  murderous  undertaking. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 


THE  LUETGERT  CASE 

To  secure  personal  benefits  and  escape  punishment — these 
are  the  two-fold  considerations  present  in  nearly  every  instance 
where  the  murder  of  a  fellow- creature  is  deliberately  planned. 
The  “benefits”  to  be  derived  may  be  vague,  uncertain,  abso¬ 
lute  evils  when  rightly  understood,  yet  they  are  possessed  of 
sufficient  potency  to  suggest  a  horried  crime  and  “screw  to  the 
sticking  place”  the  courage  of  the  perpetrator. 

Murders  of  this  kind  generally  fall  into  three  classes: 
Where  an  accidental  or  natural  death  is  suggested;  where 
homicide  is  apparent,  with  nothing  to  suggest  the  real  perpe¬ 
trator,  and  the  disappearance  of  the  victim  under  circum¬ 
stances  not  calculated  to  throw  great  suspicion  upon  the  guilty 
party. 

Probably  the  last-named  is  the  means  most  usually 
employed.  According  to  the  aphorism  of  the  villain  in  the 
story-book,  “Dead  men  tell  no  tales,”  yet  a  dead  body  often 
speaks  louder  and  more  convincingly  than  a  living  man,  and 
hence  the  effort  to  effectually  dispose  of  all  evidence  of  a 
crime,  to  the  end  that  the  public  may  believe  that  the  missing 
party  has  departed  of  his  own  volition.  Disappearances  are 
common  and  the  guilty  person  generally  sees  to  it  that  appar¬ 
ent  reasons  for  the  disappearance  are  not  wanting. 

Such  an  instance  is  presented  in  the  famous  Luetgert  case, 
which  sent  a  thrill  of  horror  through  the  country,  the  entire 
world,  in  1897.  There  was  nothing  peculiarly  atrocious  in  the 
murder  itself.  Indeed,  the  means  employed  in  perpetrating 
it  were  never  discovered  and  are  of  little  consequence.  It 
was  the  unusual,  the  unprecedented,  means  employed  to 
dispose  of  the  remains  that  lifted  this  murder  out  of  the 

492 


THE  LUETGERT  CASE 


493 


ordinary  category  of  fearful  crimes  and  placed  it  in  a  class 
by  itself. 

Adolph  Louis  Luetgert  had  grown  weary  of  his  wife,  and 
preferred  the  society  of  other  women.  There  may  have  been 
other  motives,  but  this  was  surely  the  leading  cause  that  led 
him  to  take  her  life.  When  we  consider  the  vast  number  of 
married  couples  that  live  more  or  less  unhappily  together,  this 
motive  appears  altogether  too  slight  to  account  for  the  crime. 

In  the  author’s  opinion,  it  was  reinforced  by  the  devilish 
scheme  for  disposing  of  the  remains  that  suggested  itself, 
exactly  how  will  never  be  known,  to  the  evil  mind  and  con¬ 
scienceless  heart  of  the  murderer.  It  suited  the  convenience 
of  Luetgert  that  his  wife  should  cease  to  live,  while  the  horrid 
method  of  covering  up  the  proposed  crime  attracted  his 
inventive  faculties,  fascinated  his  wicked  imagination,  over¬ 
powered  his  judgment,  stifled  any  feeling  of  humanity  that 
may  have  lingered  in  his  breast — in  a  word,  delivered  him  into 
the  possession  of  the  awful  impulse  to  take  human  life. 

The  risk  was  great,  and  the  murderer  well  knew  it.  In  any 
one  of  a  dozen  ways  which  must  have  suggested  themselves 
to  his  mind,  could  he  have  more  safely  ridded  himself  of  the 
wife  who  had  become  irksome  to  him,  and,  very  possibly, 
stood  in  the  way  of  a  more  advantageous  marriage. 

That  he  adopted  the  course  he  did  argues  strongly  in  favor 
of  the  theory  that  it  was  the  sausage  vat  and  caustic  that 
induced  him  to  murder  his  wife,  not  her  obnoxiousness  that 
suggested  the  disintegrating  power  of  steam  and  potash. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  this  volume  contains  no  darker  pages, 
nothing  that  reflects  more  severely  upon  poor  human  nature, 
than  the  following  account  of  the  infamous  Luetgert  case . 

Adolph  Luetgert  was  a  German  by  birth,  who  came  quite 
early  in  life  to  America,  settling  in  the  city  of  Chicago.  He 
followed  various  occupations,  including  those  of  farmer, 
tanner,  grocer,  and  saloon-keeper,  and  finally  settled  down  to 
the  business  of  manufacturing  sausage.  Luetgert  was  a 
powerful  man  physically,  and  possessed  of  considerable  mental 
force  and  decided  executive  ability.  Beginning  in  a  small 
way,  his  enterprise  prospered  and  he  amassed  considerable 


494 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


property,  owning  a  large  factory,  where  he  carried  on  a  very 
extensive  business. 

The  years  following  the  panic  of  1893  were  far  from  pros¬ 
perous,  but  the  sausage-maker  met  his  obligations  and 
appeared  to  be  making  money.  In  1896,  however,  he  became 
greatly  embarrassed,  and  with  the  beginning  of  the  next  year 
was  obliged  to  shut  down  his  factory,  retaining  only  a  few 
men  to  do  the  necessary  work  and  guard  the  premises.  Luet- 
gert  owed  Foreman  Brothers,  of  Chicago,  quite  a  large  sum, 
which  was  secured  by  a  chattel  mortgage,  and  expected  that 
foreclosure  proceedings  would  be  begun  in  the  month  of  May. 
In  the  meantime,  he  had  not  been  inactive.  Together  with 
his  friend  and  business  adviser,  William  Charles,  he  used 
every  means  to  secure  capital  to  further  operate  and  even 
extend  his  factory.  At  one  time  they  seemed  certain  of  suc¬ 
cess,  and  Luetgert  expected  to  become  the  world’s  sausage 
king,  but  the  plan  resulted  in  failure,  and  the  first  of  May, 
1897,  found  him  possessed  of  a  most  unquiet  mind  and  con¬ 
fronted  with  seemingly  unavoidable  financial  disaster. 

His  domestic  relations  were  not  pleasant.  He  had  been 
twice  married,  his  first  wife  having  died  many  years  before, 
leaving  one  son,  Arnold  by  name,  a  young  man  at  the  time  of 
the  tragedy.  For  his  second  wife  he  married  Louisa  Bicknese, 
who  had  formerly  been  employed  as  a  servant.  By  her  he 
had  two  sons,  Louis,  aged  twelve,  and  Elmer,  aged  five  years. 
Notwithstanding  his  fearful  crime,  Luetgert  seemed  decidedly 
attached  to  his  children. 

His  large  factory  was  located  at  Hermitage  avenue  and 
Diversey  street,  in  the  northern  section  of  the  city,  while  his 
residence  was  near  at  hand,  on  Hermitage  avenue.  For  a 
long  time  Luetgert  had  slept  in  his  office  on  the  main  floor  of 
his  factory,  one  corner  of  which  had  been  partitioned  off  for  a 
sleeping  apartment.  He  was  an  immoral  man,  and  was  often 
visited  by  women  of  extremely  doubtful  character.  It  was 
known  that  he  did  not  treat  his  wife  kindly,  making,  to  all 
appearances,  his  servant  girl,  Mary  Simering  by  name,  the 
virtual  mistress  of  his  house.  She  it  was  who  took  care  of  his 
sleeping-room  in  the  factory.  Upon  one  occasion  he  was  seen 


THE  LUETGERT  CASE 


495 


to  choke  his  wife  and  upon  another  followed  her  with  a 
revolver,  threatening  to  take  her  life. 

On  the  afternoon  of  May  4,  1897,  Diedrich  Bicknese,  a 
brother  of  Mrs.  Luetgert,  who  did  not  live  in  the  city,  called 
at  the  house  to  see  his  sister.  He  talked  with  Mary  Simering, 
but  learned  nothing  satisfactory,  beyond  the  fact  that  she  was 
not  at  home.  A  visit  to  another  sister  elicited  no  informa¬ 
tion.  Returning  towards  evening,  he  saw  Luetgert  and 
demanded  the  whereabouts  of  Louise,  by  which  name  his 
sister  was  commonly  known. 

The  sausage-maker  declared  that  he  did  not  know,  that  she 
had  left  the  house  on  the  night  of  Saturday,  May  1st,  since 
which  time  he  had  neither  seen  nor  heard  of  her.  As  nearly 
as  he  could  tell,  she  had  about  eighty  dollars  in  her  possession. 
Asked  by  his  brother-in-law  why  he  had  not  notified  the  police, 
Luetgert  replied  that  he  had  been  greatly  worried,  and,  not 
wishing  to  make  a  scandal,  had  given  each  of  two  detectives 
five  dollars  to  look  for  her.  That  night  Diedrich  went  to 
Kankakee,  Ill. ,  where  he  had  an  idea  she  might  have  gone  to 
visit  relatives,  but  found  no  trace  of  her.  Returning  next 
morning,  he  again  saw  Luetgert,  who  had  no  news  of  the 
missing  woman. 

Bicknese  spent  the  remainder  of  May  5th  searching  for  his 
sister,  calling  upon  friends  to  whom  he  thought  she  might 
very  possibly  have  gone,  but  without  results ;  no  one  had  seen 
Louisa  Luetgert.  That  night  he  went  to  the  Sheffield  ave¬ 
nue  police  station  and  reported  the  matter  to  Captain  Schuet- 
tler,  the  officer  in  command. 

Captain  Schuettler  at  once  summoned  Luetgert  to  the 
station,  but  he  did  not  respond  until  sent  for  the  second  time. 
The  captain  knew  the  sausage-maker  quite  well,  and  at  once 
began  to  interrogate  him.  The  latter  protested  that  he  knew 
nothing  as  to  the  whereabouts  of  his  wife,  but  thought  it  likely 
that  she  had  wandered  away,  intimating  that  there  was  some¬ 
thing  wrong  with  her,  as  she  had  been  acting  queerly  of  late. 

“You  made  a  vigorous  appeal  to  me  to  find  a  lost  dog  for 
you,  not  long  ago,”  remarked  the  officer.  “Why  did  you  not 
report  the  absence  of  your  wife?” 


496 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


To  this  Luetgert  replied  that  he  had  expected  his  wife  to 
return  and  had  wished  to  avoid  the  disgrace  that  must  attend 
a  disclosure  of  the  facts.  He  departed,  and  the  police  began 
dragging  the  river  and  the  clay-holes  in  the  vicinity,  in  the 
hope  of  recovering  the  body. 

On  Friday,  May  7th,  police  officers  visited  the  sausage 
factory  and  interviewed  Frank  Bialk,  a  somewhat  stupid  old 
German  who  acted  as  night  watchman.  The  story  told  by 
this  man  was  a  most  remarkable  one.  It  did  not  directly 
affect  Mrs.  Luetgert,  yet  it  suggested  to  the  minds  of  the 
officers  a  crime  almost  too  horrible  to  be  seriously  considered ; 
a  crime  the  like  of  which  they  had  never  encountered.  Frank 
Bialk’ s  story,  which  he  afterwards  twice  repeated  on  the  wit¬ 
ness  stand,  was  substantially  as  follows : 

Shortly  after  nine  o’clock  on  the  night  of  May  1st,  Luetgert 
gave  Bialk  a  dollar  and  sent  him  to  a  drug  store,  nearly  a  mile 
away,  to  purchase  a  bottle  of  celery  compound.  When  the 
watchman  returned  with  the  medicine,  about  half  an  hour 
later,  he  entered  the  engine-room  and  found  that  the  door 
leading  to  the  main  factory  had  been  barricaded,  something 
that  had  never  been  done  before.  Going  to  the  elevator,  he 
found  the  gate,  always  left  up  at  night,  closed  down.  Pres¬ 
ently  Luetgert  appeared,  took  the  medicine  and  change,  and 
said:  “All  right,  Frank,’’  after  which  Bialk  went  back  to  the 
engine-room. 

A  little  after  ten  o’clock  the  sausage-maker  again  sum¬ 
moned  the  watchman,  gave  him  another  dollar,  and  told 
him  to  go  to  the  same  drug  store  and  bring  him  a  bottle  of 
Hunyadi  water.  The  store  was  closed,  which  necessitated 
some  delay,  and  it  was  nearly  eleven  o’clock  when  the  old  man 
returned  with  his  purchase.  As  before,  Luetgert  met  him  at 
the  closed  elevator  gate,  and  said:  “All  right,  Frank.’’ 

In  the  basement  were  three  vats  supplied  with  steam, 
which  were  used  for  coloring  sausage.  About  a  quarter 
before  nine  Luetgert  turned  on  the  steam  in  the  middle  vat. 
He  remained  there  until  about  two  o’clock,  when  he  turned  off 
the  steam  and  left  the  basement.  Before  leaving  the  place  the 
following  morning  the  watchman  went  to  the  office,  where  he 


MARTIN  THORN  AND  MRS.  NACK  ON  THE  FERRYBOAT.  — PAGE  489. 


*• 


THE  LUETGERT  CASE 


497 


found  his  employer  fully  dressed,  and  asked  if  he  should  let 
the  fires  go  out.  Luetgert  told  him  to  bank  the  fires  at  fifty 
pounds  of  steam  pressure. 

When  Bialk  reported  for  duty  at  six  o’clock  Sunday  night, 
he  noticed  that  water  was  running  into  the  middle  vat,  through 
a  hose  that  had  evidently  been  attached  for  that  purpose.  He 
noticed  upon  the  floor  in  front  of  the  vat  a  sticky,  glue-like 
substance,  in  which  were  what  appeared  to  be  flakes  of  bone. 
Standing  near  the  vat  was  a  chair  that  belonged  in  the  office, 
and  which  had  not  been  there  when  he  last  entered  the  place 
on  the  preceding  evening.  He  shut  off  the  water  and  went  to 
the  engine-room,  where  he  found  that  the  fire  under  the 
boiler  was  extinguished,  the  ashes  having  been  raked  out. 
Before  daylight  on  Monday  morning,  acting  under  the  orders 
of  his  employer,  he  started  the  fire  under  the  boiler.  It  may 
be  mentioned  that,  while  the  factory  was  shut  down,  a  certain 
amount  of  steam  was  still  required  to  run  the  elevator  and  for 
other  purposes. 

This  report  of  the  officers  produced  a  profound  impression 
upon  the  experienced  Captain  Schuettler,  who  instantly 
formed  the  opinion  that  an  awful  and  most  revolting  crime 
had  been  committed  in  that  dark  basement  with  its  running 
water  and  slimy  floor.  He  sent  for  his  superior  officer, 
Inspector  Schaack,  and  a  search  of  the  sausage  factory 
was  at  once  decided  upon.  This  was  made  on  Saturday, 
May  15th,  and  resulted  in  most  important  and  horrible 
discoveries. 

On  the  afternoon  of  that  day,  Police  Inspector  Schaack, 
Captain  Schuettler,  and  three  officers  visited  the  factory,  in 
the  absence  of  the  proprietor.  They  found  the  middle  vat 
over  two-thirds  full  of  a  brownish  liquid.  Pulling  out  a  plug, 
they  proceeded  to  drain  the  vat,  having  first  arranged  gunny- 
sacks  to  act  as  strainers,  that  all  substantial  matter  might  be 
caught  and  secured.  In  this  manner  they  recovered  many 
pieces  of  bone.  In  the  meantime  they  filled  two  bottles  with 
the  gruesome,  tell-tale  fluid. 

In  scraping  out  the  vat,  Officer  Dean  recovered  several 
pieces  of  bone,  and,  the  most  important  event  of  the  day, 


498 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


found  two  gold  rings.  One  of  these  was  a  small  guard,  or 
friendship  ring,  quite  badly  tarnished.  The  other  was  a  heavy 
ring,  clean  and  bright.  It  was  a  plain  affair,  with  the  letters 
“L.  L.  ”  engraved  in  script  on  the  inside.  These  rings  were 
speedily  and  quite  positively  identified  by  several  persons  as 
having  belonged  to  the  missing  woman,  who  had  habitually 
worn  them. 

From  Frank  Odorowsky,  known  about  the  factory  as 
“Smokehouse  Frank,”  from  the  duties  he  performed  there, 
the  vigilant  police  gained  further  information  which  made 
clear  the  diabolical  scheme  that  the  uxoricide  had  carried  into 
execution.  That  a  connected  narrative  may  be  presented,  it 
should  be  noted  here  that  it  was  subsequently  discovered 
that,  on  March  n,  1897,  Luetgert  had  gone  in  person  to  the 
wholesale  drug-house  of  Lord,  Owen  &  Co.,  and  purchased 
a  large  quantity  of  crude  potash.  This  came  in  metal 
drums  containing  750  pounds.  The  sausage-maker  bought 
half  a  drum,  and  ordered  it  to  be  delivered  at  his  factory. 
He  also  purchased  fifty  pounds  of  arsenic.  What  use  he 
designed  to  make  of  this  is  not  known,  and  the  poison  was 
never  found. 

The  potash  was  promptly  delivered  in  a  barrel,  and  stood 
for  a  long  time  in  the  shipping-room.  On  April  24th  Luetgert 
ordered  Odorowsky  to  remove  this  barrel  to  the  basement. 
He  then  told  the  man  to  break  the  potash,  which  he  referred 
to  as  “the  stuff,”  into  small  fragments,  at  the  same  time 
cautioning  him  to  cover  his  hands,  as  it  was  “strong  stuff”  and 
would  burn  him  like  fire.  Frank  obeyed,  and,  assisted  by 
another  Pole,  named  Levandowsky,  beat  the  potash  into  small 
pieces  with  a  hatchet  and  a  hammer,  burning  his  hands  and 
face  quite  badly  in  the  operation.  Then  he  placed  it  in  three 
barrels  near  the  vats,  as  directed  by  his  employer.  Later  in 
the  day  he  assisted  Luetgert  to  place  the  “strong  stuff”  in  the 
middle  vat.  That  evening  steam  was  turned  on  and  the 
potash  completely  dissolved. 

On  Monday  morning,  May  3d,  Odorowsky  noticed  slime  on 
the  floor  in  front  of  the  vats, and  manifested  decided  surprise. 
Luetgert  said  to  him:  “Don’t  say  a  word,  Frank;  don’t  say 


THE  LUETGERT  CASE 


499 


anything  about  it,  and  I’ll  see  that  you  have  a  good  job  as 
long  as  you  live.” 

With  this  admonition  and  promise,  Luetgert  set  the  man  to 
work  cleaning  up  the  place.  The  floor  was  arranged  to  drain 
directly  into  the  sewer,  and  “Smokehouse  Frank”  disposed  of 
all  the  residue  he  could  in  that  way.  The  thick  substance 
that  remained  he  placed  in  a  barrel,  and,  under  the  direction 
of  his  employer,  dumped  it  on  the  railroad  track  near  the  fac¬ 
tory,  scattering  it  around. 

Standing  in  the  vat-room  were  three  short  doors  and  some 
gunny-sacks,  the  latter  wet  and  slimy.  It  was  the  theory  of 
the  prosecution  that  these  had  been  employed  to  tightly  cover 
the  middle  vat,  to  the  end  that  the  heat  might  be  greatly 
increased,  thus  causing  the  body  of  the  murdered  woman  to 
more  speedily  disintegrate. 

The  floor  cleaned,  Luetgert  directed  the  man  to  remove 
the  ashes  from  under  the  boiler  and  strew  them  in  the  street. 
Where  these  ashes  were  dumped  the  police  found  what  was 
afterwards  positively  identified  as  pieces  of  corset  steel  and 
fragments  of  human  bones.  The  theory  of  the  State  was  that 
the  murderer  had  burned  the  clothing  and  larger  bones  of  his 
wife,  which  explained  his  anxiety  to  dispose  of  the  tell-tale 
ashes.  Mrs.  Luetgert  wore  false  teeth,  and  a  portion  of  an 
artificial  tooth  was  found  in  the  middle  vat. 

Why  did  Adolph  Luetgert  take  all  these  precautions  and 
yet  permit  the  greatly  diluted  but  still  incriminating  liquid, 
containing  fragments  of  bone  and  his  wife’s  finger-rings,  to 
remain  in  that  terrible  “middle  vat”?  This  circumstance  was 
urged  in  his  favor,  and  led  many  to  doubt  his  guilt,  yet  the 
explanation  is  simple.  Lie  considered  himself  secure  at  first, 
and  never  thought  of  it  afterwards.  In  the  professional 
experience  of  the  author,  a  criminal  usually  overlooks  some 
point  that  leads  to  his  conviction.  But  for  the  finding  and 
identification  of  the  two  rings  it  is  not  likely  that  Luetgert 
would  ever  have  been  found  guilty. 

Upon  this,  and  other  incriminating  evidence,  Adolph 
Luetgert  was  arrested  at  his  residence.  Mary  Simering  had 
already  been  taken  into  custody,  and  he  had  secured  the 


500 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


attendance  of  Mrs.  Agathia  Tosch,  an  old  and  quite  intimate 
friend,  who  was  reputed  to  be  wealthy.  He  was  given  a  pre¬ 
liminary  hearing  and  remanded  to  jail,  soon  after  which  an 
indictment  was  found  against  him. 

Adolph  L.  Luetgert  was  arraigned  for  trial  on  Monday, 
August  23,  1897,  before  Judge  Richard  Tuthill.  He  was 
defended  by  Ex- Judge  William  A.  Vincent  and  Albert  Phalen, 
while  the  prosecution  was  conducted  by  State’s  Attorney 
Charles  Deneen,  assisted  by  Mr.  McEwen.  On  August  28th  a 
jury  was  secured.  On  that  day  a  secret  experiment  was  con¬ 
ducted  at  the  Luetgert  factory.  The  corpse  of  a  man  was 
treated  to  potash  in  the  now  famous  “middle  vat,”  the  claim 
of  the  defense  being  that  it  was  not  disintegrated  under  the 
same  conditions  that  the  body  of  Mrs.  Luetgert  was  claimed  to 
have  been  destroyed.  From  this  the  defendant  took  great 
courage,  loudly  boasting  that  he  was  certain  of  acquittal.  It 
was  shown  on  the  trial  that  the  water  used  was  not  kept  at 
boiling  point,  no  effort  having  been  made  to  confine  the  steam 
by  means  of  the  doors  and  gunny-sacks,  as  was  doubtless  done 
by  Luetgert. 

The  task  set  for  the  state’s  attorney  was  a  most  difficult 
one.  The  body  of  the  victim  had  been  practically  consumed, 
and  yet  it  was  absolutely  necessary  to  prove,  not  only  that 
she  was  dead,  but  that  she  had  died  at  the  hands  of  the  pris¬ 
oner,  as  charged  in  the  indictment.  To  establish  this  by 
purely  circumstantial  evidence  seemed  altogether  out  of 
the  question,  and  few  of  the  thousands  who  had  carefully 
studied  the  case  believed  that  a  conviction  would  ever  be 
secured. 

The  formal  trial  began  on  August  30th,  Diedrich  Bicknese 
being  the  first  witness.  He  was  followed  by  Mrs.  Luetgert’s 
eldest  son,  Louis.  On  the  preliminary  examination  he  had 
stated  that  he  had  heard  his  father  go  out  about  ten  o’clock  on 
the  night  of  May  1st,  and  did  not  afterwards  see  or  hear  his 
mother.  His  evidence  proved  a  disappointment,  and  few  were 
grieved  that  it  was,  since  it  seemed  a  hard  thing  to  place  a  boy 
of  twelve  years  on  the  stand  to  testify  against  his  father,  who 
was  on  trial  for  his  life.  On  the  trial  he  claimed  that  he  had 


THE  LUETGERT  CASE 


5oi 

heard  his  mother  after  his  father  had  left  the  house,  he  being 
at  the  time  in  bed. 

Mrs.  Agathia  Tosch,  who,  with  her  husband,  kept  a  saloon 
near  the  factory,  testified  on  the  second  day,  and  her  story 
told  heavily  against  the  defendant.  On  the  day  after  the 
murder  Luetgert  had  come  to  her  saloon  looking  tired,  sick 
and  greatly  worried.  He  did  not  call  again  for  nearly  two 
weeks,  by  which  time  Mrs.  Tosch  had  heard  of  his  wife’s 
disappearance  and  also  that  the  police  had  visited  the  factory. 
She  asked  him  where  his  wife  was.  He  became  greatly 
excited,  and  replied:  “I  don’t  know.  I  am  as  innocent  as  the 
southern  skies.” 

This  statement  was  remarkable,  because  no  charge  had 
been  made  against  him.  Before  the  murder,  Luetgert  had 
said  to  the  witness,  speaking  of  his  wife:  “I  could  take  her 
and  crush  her.”  Upon  another  occasion,  when  he  had  sent 
for  a  doctor  to  attend  his  wife,  who  was  sick,  he  said  to  Mrs. 
Tosch:  “If  I  had  waited  a  little  longer,  the  dead,  rotten  beast 
would  have  croaked.  ’  ’ 

He  afterwards  told  witness  that  he  could  not  live  with  his 
wife,  and  upon  one  occasion  said:  “If  it  were  not  for  Mary 
Simering  I  would  not  stay  at  home.” 

About  four  o’clock  on  Sunday,  May  2d,  a  heavy  smoke  was 
seen  issuing  from  the  factory  chimney.  In  the  talk  he  had 
with  Mrs.  Tosch  he  told  her  that  his  engineer  was  talking  too 
much  about  the  smoke,  and  asked  her  to  see  him  and  warn 
him  to  desist. 

After  the  officers  first  visited  the  factory  and  talked  with 
Frank  Bialk,  Luetgert  sent  for  him.  He  told  the  police,  who 
instructed  him  to  send  word  that  he  was  sick.  Luetgert  came 
promptly  to  see  him,  and  found  the  old  man  in  bed.  Officer 
Antone  Klinger,  who  was  concealed  beneath  the  bed,  swore 
that  Luetgert’s  mission  was  to  learn  whether  the  officers  had 
found  anything  incriminating  in  the  factory,  to  which  Bialk 
replied  that  they  had  not. 

Several  German  women,  who  had  known  Mrs.  Luetgert 
long  and  intimately,  identified  the  rings  as  having  be¬ 
longed  to  her,  while  the  chemist  employed  by  Luetgert 


5°2 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


testified  that  potash  was  never  used  in  the  manufacture  of 

sausage. 

Probably  the  witness  whom  Luetgert  most  feared  to  see 
take  the  stand  was  Mrs.  Christine  Feldt.  She  was  a  German 
woman,  reputed  to  be  wealthy,  and  an  old  and  confidential 
friend  of  the  defendant.  The  close  relations  that  existed 
between  them  could  not  fail  to  give  great  force  to  any  state¬ 
ment  the  woman  might  make.  Intimations,  very  possibly 
unjust  to  Mrs.  Feldt,  were  made  that  Luetgert  designed  to 
marry  her  after  having  disposed  of  his  wife. 

No  wonder  that  the  strong,  pompous,  self-sufficient 
sausage-maker  paled  when  his  “Darling  Christine”  was  sworn 
and  faced  the  twelve  men  who  possessed  the  power  to  legally 
take  away  his  life.  After  the  commission  of  the  crime  he  had 
intrusted  $4,000  to  her  keeping,  and  from  the  jail  had  written 
a  number  of  letters  in  which  love  was  rather  artistically 
blended  with  business.  Money  was  the  real  point  underlying 
them  all,  but  they  abounded  in  protestations  of  affection  and 
terms  of  endearment.  All  of  this  money  Mrs.  Feldt  returned 
to  the  defendant. 

A  long  and  fierce  struggle  must  have  been  waged  in  this 
woman’s  breast  before  she  consented  to  give  testimony  against 
her  old-time  friend.  Luetgert  did  not  believe  that  she  would 
take  this  step,  and  his  opinion  was  shared  by  many  who  knew 
her.  But  a  sense  of  duty  mastered  her  repugnance,  and  she 
seated  herself  in  the  witness-chair. 

The  hardened  criminal  actually  blushed  when  his  letters 
were  produced  in  court  and  translated  as  read  to  the  jury. 
Mrs.  Feldt  testified  that  the  defendant  had  told  her  that  he 
could  not  live  with  his  wife,  and  had  spoken  harshly  of  her. 
“If  you  forsake  me,  Christine,”  he  had  said,  “I  will  take  my 
own  life ;  I  do  not  care  to  live.  ’  ’ 

One  of  the  sensations  of  the  long  trial  developed  the  follow¬ 
ing  day,  when  Mrs.  Feldt  was  recalled  and  identified  a  long 
blood-stained  knife  as  one  that  Luetgert  had  intrusted  to  her 
care  after  the  awful  night  of  May  1st.  He  had  made  no 
specific  statement,  but  the  inference  was  plain  that  this  was 
the  weapon  with  which  he  had  taken  his  wife’s  life.  To  have 


THE  LUETGERT  CASE 


503 

kept  such  an  accusing-  witness  seems  the  height  of  folly,  but 
it  must  be  remembered  that  murderers  do  the  most  foolhardy 
things.  Besides,  Mrs.  Feldt  was  the  one  woman  on  earth 
whom  he  implicitly  trusted,  and  he  doubtless  thought  to  win 
her  further  favor  by  putting  himself,  in  a  manner,  within  her 
power,  not  believing  it  possible  that  she  would  turn  against 
him.  William  Charles,  the  friend  who  stood  by  Luetgert  to 
the  last,  afterwards  claimed  that  he  had  given  the  knife  to 
Mrs.  Feldt,  which  did  not  greatly  change  the  bearing  of  the 
incident,  if  true,  as  it  undoubtedly  was  not. 

Emma  Schiemicke,  a  young  German  girl,  testified  that  on 
the  night  of  May  1st  she  was  near  the  factory,  accompanied  by 
her  sister.  It  was  between  ten  and  eleven  o’clock,  when  she 
saw  the  defendant,  accompanied  by  his  wife,  going  towards  an 
alley  that  led  to  the  factory.  This  was  strong  connecting 
testimony,  and  was  vigorously  combated  by  the  defense.  Her 
testimony  was  greatly  weakened  under  cross-examination,  and 
was  impeached  by  many  witnesses,  some  of  whom  were,  in 
turn,  shown  to  have  spoken  falsely.  Emma  was  a  somewhat 
weak-minded  person,  and  her  testimony,  supported  at  one  time 
by  that  of  her  sister,  was  pretty  well  discredited. 

Lack  of  space  forbids  the  author  from  going  at  length  into  a 
discussion  of  the  expert'  testimony,  which  formed  one  of  the 
leading  features  of  this  most  extraordinary  trial.  The  residue 
from  the  vat  was  shown  to  be  made  up  of  animal  matter  that 
had  been  treated  with  potash,  though  no  claim  was  made  that 
the  former  could  be  identified  as  having  come  from  a  human 
being. 

Many  fragments  of  bone  taken  from  the  vat  and  from  the 
street  where  the  ashes  had  been  thrown  were  introduced  in 
evidence.  Several  of  these  were  identified  by  leading  experts 
as  being  fragments  of  human  bones.  These  were :  part  of  a 
human  third  rib ;  part  of  a  humerus,  or  great  bone  of  the  arm ; 
a  bone  from  the  palm  of  the  human  hand ;  a  bone  from  the 
fourth  toe  of  human  right  foot;  fragments  of  a  human 
temporal  bone ;  sesamoid  bone  from  human  foot ;  one  of  the 
bones  of  a  human  ear. 

The  sesamoid  bone  and  the  one  from  the  car  were  most 


5°4 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


positively  identified,  and  for  many  days  the  word  “sesamoid” 
was  freely  used  by  hundreds  of  thousands  of  people  who  had 
never  heard  the  term  a  month  before.  It  was  essential  to  the 
State’s  case  to  prove  that  the  body  of  Mrs.  Luetgert  had  been 
reduced  to  slime  and  fragments  in  that  horrid  “middle  vat,” 
and  no  efforts  were  spared  to  convince  the  jury  that  the  bones 
were  human. 

Other  evidence,  not  already  referred  to,  was  introduced. 
“Smokehouse  Frank”  told  how  he  had  seen  Luetgert  kissing 
and  embracing  Mary  Simering  in  the  factory.  Not  long  after 
the  arrest  of  the  defendant  the  contents  of  his  factory  were 
sold  at  auction,  and  a  West  Side  druggist  swore  that  he  had 
bought  at  the  sale  a  considerable  quantity  of  the  water  for 
which  Luetgert  had  sent  Frank  Bialk  on  the  night  of  May  ist 
that  he  might  get  him  out  of  the  way.  This  evidence  showed 
almost  conclusively  that  the  sending  away  of  the  watchman 
upon  such  an  errand  had  been  a  mere  subterfuge  to  secure 
secrecy  for  the  commission  of  an  awful  crime. 

To  destroy  the  meshes  of  this  incriminating  web  of  circum¬ 
stantial  evidence,  the  defense  labored  hard,  introducing  many 
witnesses.  They  showed  the  results  of  an  experiment  made 
upon  a  corpse  in  the  middle  vat,  but,  as  already  suggested, 
the  illustration  lacked  force,  since  the  vat  had  been  uncovered 
and  the  liquid  was  not  kept  at  the  boiling  point.  Besides,  the 
resulting  liquid  was  very  similar  to  that  found  by  the  officers. 

A  large  number  of  chemical  and  bone  experts  were  intro¬ 
duced.  For  the  most  part  the  latter  contented  themselves  by 
claiming  that  the  bones  introduced  by  the  State  might  have 
come  from  any  one  of  several  lower  animals.  Some  of  these 
experts  fared  rather  badly  under  cross-examination  and,  in 
general,  their  testimony  was  not  very  satisfactory.  In  the 
encounter  of  experts  the  State  undoubtedly  made  the  better 
showing. 

Adolph  Luetgert  was  not  without  friends,  and  soon  after 
his  arrest  the  missing  Mrs.  Luetgert  began  to  appear  in  many 
places.  She  was  seen  in  New  York  by  a  man  who  had  known 
her  well  years  before.  It  was  confidently  announced  that  he 
was  to  testify  on  the  trial,  but  he  was  not  produced.  Several 


THE  LUETGERT  CASE 


5°5 


witnesses  from  Kenosha,  Wis. ,  testified  to  having  seen  her  in 
that  city  two  or  three  days  after  her  disappearance,  and  wit¬ 
nesses  who  had  seen  her  at  other  points,  were  introduced. 
From  a  score  of  places  came  reports  that  the  missing  woman 
had  been  seen.  The  identifications  were  generally  vague  and 
uncertain,  while  the  testimony  was  sometimes  conflicting,  and 
it  did  not  make  a  favorable  impression  upon  the  jury.  In  the 
meantime,  Inspector  Schaack  had  offered  a  reward  of  $20,000 
for  the  production  of  the  woman. 

This  card,  which  the  defense  so  largely  relied  upon,  proved 
decidedly  weak  when  played  in  the  game.  The  thing  was 
overdone.  Too  many  Mrs.  Luetgerts  had  been  seen  in  too 
many  places,  and  the  jury  were,  apparently,  not  favorably 
impressed. 

During  the  trial  Luetgert  bore  himself  rather  well,  assum¬ 
ing  an  indifference  and  contempt  that  was  well  simulated.  He 
laughed  and  joked  as  if  his  only  interest  in  the  case  was  that 
of  a  light-hearted  spectator.  That  he  was  possessed  of  an  iron 
nerve  cannot  be  questioned.  He  was  extremely  anxious  to 
testify  in  his  own  behalf,  and  nothing  but  the  determined 
opposition  of  Judge  Vincent  prevented  him  from  doing  so. 
Over  this  point  Luetgert’s  attorneys  came  into  open  conflict, 
and  at  one  time  a  rupture  seemed  imminent,  since  they  had 
frequently  disagreed  before. 

At  length  it  was  decided  that  the  defendant  should  not 
testify,  so  far  as  possible  his  place  being  taken  by  his  friend 
and  adviser,  William  Charles.  This  man  swore  very  hard,  too 
hard,  doubtless,  in  Luetgert’s  behalf,  and  through  him  was 
disclosed  the  real  answer  of  the  defense  to  the  awful  dis¬ 
closures  of  the  “middle  vat.’’ 

Briefly,  this  was  his  story:  Some  hope  still  remained  of 
getting  capital  into  the  business,  and  it  appeared  desirable  to 
clean  up  the  factory.  To  accomplish  this  it  was  decided  to 
make  a  quantity  of  genuine  old-fashioned  soft-soap.  Accord¬ 
ingly,  the  potash  was  bought  and  four  hundred  pounds  of 
grease  and  bones  purchased.  The  delivery  of  the  latter  was 
sworn  to  by  a  witness  produced  by  the  defense.  Charles  had 
assisted  Luetgert  to  dump  the  grease  into  the  vat.  The 


5°6 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


attempt  had  proven  a  failure,  owing  to  Luetgert’s  inexperi¬ 
ence  as  a  soap-boiler. 

This  effort  to  wash  away  the  terrible  combination  of  facts 
that  had  been  accumulated  against  the  defendant  proved  a 
failure.  The  pretended  delivery  of  grease  was  discredited  by 
the  testimony  of  the  men  working  about  the  factory,  none  of 
whom  had  seen  or  heard  of  grease  or  tallow  having  been 
brought  there.  It  was  also  shown  that  the  factory  was 
already  in  good  condition  and  did  not  require  scrubbing. 

But  the  strongest  evidence  against  this  peculiar  defense 
was  furnished  by  the  defendant’s  own  witnesses.  The 
material  said  to  have  been  used  by  Luetgert  in  this  experiment 
cost  nearly  forty  dollars,  whereas  a  barrel  of  soft-soap,  an 
ample  supply  to  scrub  the  building,  could  have  been  purchased 
for  about  one  dollar.  No  argument  is  needed  to  show  the 
utter  absurdity  of  this  defense.  What  could  be  more  ridic¬ 
ulous  than  to  suggest  that  a  man,  almost  in  a  state  of  frenzy 
from  past  business  reverses  and  impending  foreclosure  and 
total  ruin,  would  spend  an  entire  night  and  quite  a  large  sum 
of  money  attempting  to  make  soap  enough  to  clean  a  dozen 
factories,  and  that  when  his  own  was  in  good  condition? 

Doubtless  Luetgert ’s  lawyers  realized  this,  but  it  was 
absolutely  necessary  to  make  some  explanation  of  the  defend¬ 
ant’s  long  vigil  beside  the  “middle  vat,”  to  account  for  the 
bad-smelling,  brownish  liquid  and  the  presence  of  bones.  The 
explanation  was  singularly  unfortunate,  and  seems  to  have 
been  the  one  thing  needed  to  convince  the  world,  if  not  the 
jury,  that  Adolph  Luetgert,  having  murdered  his  wife,  deliber¬ 
ately  disposed  of  her  remains  by  boiling  them  in  a  strong 
solution  of  potash. 

An  effort  was  made  to  discredit  the  identification  of  the 
rings,  but  this  was  labored  and  weak,  producing  small  effect. 
The  policy  of  the  defense  evidently  was  to  impress  the  jury 
that  the  case  had  not  been  established  beyond  a  reasonable 
doubt.  To  support  the  theory  that  Mrs.  Luetgert  was  alive 
and  wandering  about  the  country,  they  attempted  to  prove 
that  she  was  not  in  a  normal  mental  condition.  The  court 
limited  efforts  of  this  kind  to  one  week  next  preceding  her 


THE  LUETGERT  CASE 


5°7 


disappearance,  and,  thus  circumscribed,  they  were  not  able  to 
make  much  of  a  showing. 

After  discussing  the  evidence  for  three  days  and  nights  the 
jury  were  finally  discharged  by  the  court  as  unable  to  agree. 
It  is  understood  that  the  jury  stood  nine  for  conviction  and 
three  for  acquittal.  It  was  decided  that  the  defendant  should 
be  given  a  new  trial  at  the  earliest  possible  moment. 

Adolph  L.  Luetgert,  having  failed  to  secure  admission  to 
bail,  was  again  arraigned  for  trial  before  Judge  Joseph  E. 
Gary,  November  29,  1897.  Before  that  time,  Luetgert  had 
quarreled  with  his  attorneys,  and  new  ones  had  been  secured 
in  the  persons  of  Lawrence  Harmon,  John  E.  Kehoe,  and  Max 

V 

J.  Riese.  On  December  13th  a  jury  was  secured  and  the  trial 
formally  begun.  On  December  16th  the  judge  disqualified 
one  of  the  jurors  for  having,  before  being  sworn,  expressed 
the  opinion  that  the  defendant  ought  to  be  hung.  His  place 
was  promptly  filled  and  the  trial  begun  anew. 

During  the  second  trial  it  developed  that  an  attempt  had 
been  made  to  bribe  the  jury  on  the  former  trial,  also  that 
promissory  notes  given  Judge  Vincent  by  Luetgert  to  secure 
his  fees  had  turned  out  to  be  forgeries. 

On  December  27th  the  stenographers  employed  by  the 
defense  refused  to  do  any  further  work  because  they  had  no 
assurance  of  receiving  payment.  This  led  to  much  delay,  and 
greatly  prolonged  the  trial,  the  prisoner’s  attorneys  insisting 
on  taking  down  the  testimony  in  long-hand. 

On  January  21,  1898,  Luetgert  took  the  stand  and  testified 
at  considerable  length,  telling  the  story  of  his  life  with  great 
particularity.  He  denied  his  guilt,  and  frequently  shed  tears. 
As  to  the  occurrences  of  May  1,  1897,  he  told  substantially  the 
story  that  Charles  had  set  up  on  the  first  trial.  He  had  been 
making  soft-soap.  Upon  cross-examination  his  memory 
proved  very  defective,  but  he  admitted  that  he  had  never 
made  soft-soap  before,  and  had  no  idea  as  to  its  cost,  had  never 
used  soft-soap  for  cleaning  his  factory,  and  had,  in  his  grocery, 
at  the  factory,  plenty  of  soap  and  scouring  material. 

On  February  9,  189S,  the  jury  returned  a  verdict  of  guilty 
of  murder,  and  fixed  the  penalty  at  imprisonment  for  life. 


\ 


5°8 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


Such  a  verdict  shows  that  something  of  a  doubt  must  have 
lingered  in  the  minds  of  some  of  the  twelve  men,  for  if  ever  a 
crime  merited  the  extreme  penalty,  that  crime  was  committed 
by  Adolph  Luetgert. 

The  prisoner  was  a  large,  powerful  and  not  ill-looking 
man,  though  his  eyes  were  abnormally  small.  For  the  most 
part  he  maintained  his  wonderful  self-possession  during  both 
of  his  long  trials.  In  both  instances  he  claimed  to  be  entirely 
confident  of  acquittal,  and  on  his  last  trial  had  made  an 
engagement  to  attend  a  fancy  ball,  to  which  he  had  been 
invited,  a  pleasure  which  he  was  forced  to  forego. 

Luetgert  must  have  long  meditated  this  crime,  having  pur¬ 
chased  the  potash  nearly  two  months  before  he  carried  the 
plan  into  execution.  The  annals  of  crime  contain  few 
instances  where  preparations  for  a  murder  were  made  so  long 
in  advance,  and  the  depravity  of  the  wretch’s  heart  may  fairly 
be  deduced  from  the  circumstance. 

Adolph  L.  Luetgert  was  an  intensely  egotistical  man,  who 
assumed  a  tone  of  superiority  over  all  with  whom  he  came  in 
contact.  The  novelty  of  the  plan  appealed  strongly  to  his 
vanity  as  its  originator,  and  he  doubtless  thought  that  his 
superior  intellect  would  prevent  even  suspicion  falling  upon 
him.  In  this  peculiar  vanity,  which  never  deserted  him  dur¬ 
ing  all  his  trials  and  perplexities,  something  of  the  habitual 
criminal  may  be  seen. 

Given  such  an  awful  crime  as  the  one  described,  Adolph 
Luetgert  was  an  ideal  man  to  develop  its  details  and  carry 
them  into  execution. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 


INFANTICIDE 

Infanticide  has  been  practiced  from  the  most  remote  ages. 
If  we  are  to  believe  some  authors,  it  is  a  crime  peculiarly  fos¬ 
tered  and  encouraged  by  modern  civilization;  or  rather  by 
those  vices,  which,  so  far  in  the  intellectual  development  of 
the  world,  have  always  attended  mental  advancement.  That 
this  has  something  of  foundation  in  truth,  we  shall  see  later, 
but  that  civilization  tends  to  increase  infanticide  in  the  aggre¬ 
gate  is  very  far  from  being  true.  With  the  ancient  civiliza¬ 
tions  it  was  differently  regarded,  and  infant  life  was  commonly 
held  as  of  small  value ;  but  those  conditions  of  society  lacked 
the  softening  and  elevating  influences  of  Christianity,  which 
have  greatly  changed  the  views  of  the  moderns  in  many 
important  particulars. 

Infanticide  is  peculiarly  the  crime  of  the  savage  state. 
This  is  due  to  two  principal  causes :  First,  savages  possess  but 
a  very  limited  feeling  of  compassion,  and,  second,  their  war¬ 
like  and  nomadic  habits  are  decidedly  unfavorable  to  infant 
life.  Savage  parents  usually  decide  for  themselves  whether 
they  care  to  raise  to  maturity  the  child  for  whose  existence 
they  are  responsible,  and  if  they  do  not,  they  either  expose  or 
put  it  to  death  in  any  manner  that  suggests  itself.  Brutal  as 
this  proceeding  appears  to  civilized  and  enlightened  men,  it  is 
more  easily  excused  than  is  infanticide  where  gross  sensuality 
is  the  moving  cause.  With  the  dawn  of  civilization  this  prac¬ 
tice  usually  becomes  rare ;  but  the  intermediate  simple  state 
of  life  passed,  it  increases  in  frequency.  It  does  not,  how¬ 
ever,  keep  pace  in  its  growth  with  the  immorality  of  a  people, 
but  seems  rather  to  depend  upon  how  illegitimate  children  are 
regarded  in  a  community,  and  what  amount  of  condemnation 

509 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


5i° 

the  public  attaches  to  the  erring  mother.  Following  this 
rule,  the  destruction  of  infant  life  is  large  where  immorality 
generally  prevails  and  is  commonly  condemned.  In  civilized 
countries  the  mother  of  an  illegitimate  child  will  usually 
bear  privations  rather  than  destroy  it,  but  is  unable  to  con¬ 
front  the  finger  of  shame,  which  very  frequently  proves 
stronger  than  the  natural  love  she  bears  her  offspring.  In 
vSpain,  where  female  frailty  is  treated  with  the  utmost  leniency 
and  a  “misstep”  excites  no  special  comment,  infanticide  is 
almost  unknown.  Writing  a  little  over  a  century  ago,  Henry 
Home,  Lord  Karnes,  says: 

“In  Wales,  even  at  present,  and  in  the  Highlands  of  Scot¬ 
land,  it  is  scarce  a  disgrace  for  a  young  woman  to  have  a 
bastard.  In  the  country  last  mentioned,  the  first  instance 
known  of  a  bastard  child  being  destroyed  by  its  mother 
through  shame  is  a  late  one.” 

Many  savage  and  semi-civilized  peoples  have  regarded 
their  infant  children  as  the  most  acceptable  sacrifices  that  they 
could  offer  to  the  gods,  and  this  notion  has  been  directly 
responsible  for  the  destruction  of  a  vast  amount  of  infant 
human  life.  This  notion  is  not  altogether  a  thing  of  the  past, 
and  this  form  of  sacrifice  is  still  offered  up  in  many  parts  of 
the  world. 

To  show  what  wonderful  advancement  has  been  made  in 
public  sentiment  touching  this  matter  since  the  days  of  the 
ancient  civilizations,  the  case  of  the  Greeks  may  be  instanced. 
With  them  infanticide  was  very  generally  practiced,  and  few 
restrictions  were  attached  to  it.  Indeed,  it  was  enjoined 
under  certain  conditions,  on  the  theory  of  securing  the  greatest 
happiness  to  the  greatest  possible  number.  As  most  readers 
are  aware,  the  great  philosopher,  Plato,  devised  an  ideal 
republic,  for  which  he  provided  laws,  calculated,  in  his  own 
opinion  and  that  of  his  intellectual  contemporaries,  to  secure 
the  welfare  of  the  people.  In  this  legislation  he  provided  for 
infanticide,  as  also  did  Aristotle,  in  a  somewhat  similar  scheme 
for  self-government  of  a  people.  This  was  theoretical,  but 
Solon  and  Lycurgus  provided  actual  laws  making  to  the  same 
end.  In  this  they  anticipated  the  theories  of  Malthus,  and 


INFANTICIDE 


5  n 

legislated  for  the  restriction  of  population.  Indeed,  the 
satirical  elaboration  of  the  Malthusian  theory,  quoted  in  the 
second  chapter  of  this  volume,  might  well  have  been  drawn 
from  the  serious  arguments  and  actual  practices  of  the  Greeks. 
They  regarded  the  ideal  condition  of  mankind  as  free  from 
helpless  and  unproductive  members  of  society, ’and  therefore 
decided  that  the  painless  destruction  of  infants  whose  parents 
were  unable  to  adequately  provide  for  and  educate,  was,  on 
the  whole,  a  benefit  to  the  State.  This  was  especially  urged 
in  the  case  of  those  infants  who  were  deformed  or  afflicted 
with  diseases  that  would  make  their  mature  years  a  burden  to 
themselves  and  their  friends. 

The  Greeks  were  extremely  sensual,  and  their  women,  for 
the  most  part,'  of  a  low  condition,  intellectually  and  socially, 
which  led  to  the  general  practice  of  what  the  greatest  philos¬ 
ophers  excused  and  commended.  Besides,  mothers  have  a 
much  greater  natural  affection  for  their  infant  children  than 
have  fathers,  and  the  low  condition  of  the  Greek  women  pre¬ 
vented  their  exercising  a  healthful  influence  over  their  hus¬ 
bands  in  this  regard.  But  infanticide  was  not  universally 
practiced,  even  in  immoral  Greece.  In  Thebes  this  offense  is 
said  to  have  been  severely  punished,  death,  under  some  cir¬ 
cumstances,  being  the  penalty. 

Thanks  to  their  peculiar  religion  and  their  almost  universal 
desire  to  increase  the  population,  after  one  of  the  earliest  of 
the  divine  commands,  the  Jews  strictly  prohibited  infanticide. 
The  great  historian,  Tacitus,  notices  in  terms  of  eulogy  that 
the  ancient  Germans,  though  a  rude  people,  did  not  allow 
infanticide. 

The  theories  of  the  Romans  differed  greatly  from  those  of 
the  Greeks  on  this  subject.  While  the  latter  wished  to  restrict 
population,  the  former  sought  to  extend  it,  and  the  destruction 
of  infant  life  was  never  common  with  the  Romans  until  society 
had  become  corrupted  and  debased  during  the  sensual  days  of 
the  Empire.  This  appears  remarkable  at  the  first  glance, 
since  originally  the  Roman  father  had  absolute  power  to  com¬ 
mit  infanticide  at  pleasure.  But  an  ancient  law,  said  to  have 
originated  with  Romulus,  restricted  the  rights  of  parents  in 


512 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


this  regard,  and  prohibited  the  father  from  slaying  any  well- 
formed  child  until  it  had  attained  the  age  of  three  years. 
This  was  wisdom  that  suggests  the  famous  judgment  of  Solo¬ 
mon  in  deciding  which  of  two  women  was  the  mother  of  a 
child.  It  will  be  remembered  that  he  decreed  that  the  infant 
should  be  cut  in  half,  at  which  the  real  mother  recoiled  in 
horror,  thus  giving  him  the  basis  for  a  correct  judgment.  In 
like  manner,  the  Roman  father  was  expected  to  have  devel¬ 
oped  enough  love  for  his  child  by  the  time  it  was  three  years 
old  to  spare  its  life.  To  lawfully  destroy  crippled  or  deformed 
children,  the  Roman  father  had.  to  procure  the  consent  of 
their  five  nearest  relatives. 

Under  the  Empire,  the  laws  of  the  Romans  strongly 
though  indirectly  discouraged  this  practice.  This  was  done 
by  granting  special  privileges  to  the  fathers  of  large  families 
of  children,  and  also  by  exempting  poor  parents  from  the 
burdens  of  taxation.  To  a  certain  extent,  also,  provision  was 
made  for  the  security  and  care  of  infants  that  had  been 
exposed  by  their  parents.  Notwithstanding  all  this,  both 
Pagan  and  Christian  writers  agree  in  declaring  that  infanticide 
was  a  great  evil  during  the  Empire.  A  very  broad  distinction 
was  popularly  drawn  between  this  crime  and  the  exposing  of 
infants.  By  exposing  is  meant  leaving  them  in  the  streets,  or 
elsewhere,  to  live  or  die,  as  might  depend  upon  chance  or  the 
humanity  of  their  discoverers.  The  exposure  of  infants  was 
condemned  by  the  Romans,  but  was  not  punished  as  an 
offense  against  the  State.  Certain  it  is  that  abandonment  of 
infants  was  practiced  on  a  most  gigantic  scale,  and  was 
generally  regarded  as  a  very  venial  offense.  That  much 
infant  life  was  destroyed  through  this  practice  cannot  be 
doubted,  but  probably  the  great  majority  of  them  were  saved 
from  death.  They  were  brought  usually  to  a  famous  column 
near  the  Valabrum,  where  they  were  carried  away  and  edu¬ 
cated  as  slaves,  though  many  were  diverted  to  purposes  of 
prostitution. 

On  the  whole,  infanticide  was  condemned  by  the  Roman 
people  as  morally  wrong,  but  the  laxness  with  which  the  laws 
were  enforced,  coupled  with  the  low  moral  tone  of  the 


INFANTICIDE 


5*3 

populace,  permitted  it  to  flourish.  It  was  not  until  the  con¬ 
version  of  Rome  to  Christianity  that  any  radical  methods  were 
taken  to  check  this  enormous  vice.  To  the  Christian  religion 
must  be  ascribed  the  high  distinction  of  having  combated  and 
reduced  to  a  minimum  infanticide  and  the  exposure  of  infants. 
Not  only  are  the  fundamental  principles  of  Christianity 
opposed  to  such  practices,  but  the  early  Fathers  of  the  Church, 
with  one  accord,  declaimed  eloquently  against  them.  In  the 
year  of  his  conversion,  Constantine  issued  a  decree,  at  first 
applicable  only  to  Italy,  but  afterwards  extended  to  Africa, 
providing  that  the  children  of  parents  who  were  unable  to  sup¬ 
port  them  should  be  maintained  at  the  expense  of  the  State. 

In  A.  D.  329  it  was  provided  that  children  that  had  been 
sold  might  be  redeemed  upon  repayment  by  the  father;  two 
years  later  it  was  provided  that  foundlings  became  the  abso¬ 
lute  property  of  their  preserver,  and  could  not  be  released  by 
the  father.  This  last  provision  can  hardly  be  regarded  with 
favor,  though  doubtless  meant  for  the  public  good,  since  it 
doomed  the  unfortunate  child  to  a  condition  of  perpetual 
servitude.  Indeed,  it  does  not  compare  favorably  with  some 
of  the  Pagan  laws,  which  provided  that  the  father,  upon  pay¬ 
ment  of  all  charges  for  expenses,  might  always  reclaim  the 
child  he  had  abandoned.  Further  than  that,  the  Emperor 
Trajan  had  decreed  that  under  no  circumstances  could  an 
exposed  child  be  reduced  to  a  condition  of  slavery.  This  law 
of  Constantine  continued  in  force  until  529,  when  Justinian 
decreed  that  the  person  who  found  an  exposed  child  could  not 
deprive  it  of  its  natural  liberty,  and  that,  by  exposing  it,  the 
father  lost  all  legitimate  authority  over  it.  This  law  was 
limited  to  the  Eastern  Empire,  and  in  the  West,  to  a  large 
extent  at  least,  the  servitude  of  abandoned  infants  extended 
for  several  hundred  years,  and  was  only  discontinued  when 
slavery  was  exterminated  from  Europe. 

The  civil  wars  into  which  the  Empire  was  plunged  under 
Constantine  reduced  the  nation  to  sad  extremities,  and  almost 
necessitated  the  revival  of  the  old  law  providing  that  in  case 
of  absolute  destitution  children  might  be  sold  as  slaves,  which 
practice  had  never  been  altogether  abandoned.  The  Fathers 


/ 


5i4  MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 

of  the  Church  denounced  this  practice,  but  no  Christian 
Emperor  interfered  to  prevent  it. 

As  to  the  punishment  for  infanticide  meted  out  by  the 
Pagans  of  Rome,  there  has  been  much  dispute,  but  the  better 
authority  is  that  it  was  regarded  as  murder,  though  punished 
by  banishment,  instead  of  death.  To  check  infanticide  in 
Africa,  where  vast  numbers  of  infants  were  sacrificed  to 
vSaturn,  Constantine  made  the  murder  of  a  child  by  its  father 
the  same  offense  as  parricide.  In  A.  D.  374,  Valentinian 
made  all  forms  of  infanticide  a  capital  offense,  and  likewise 
punished  the  exposure  of  infants.  In  the  seventh  century, 
the  Spanish  Visigoths  severely  denounced  both  infanticide 
and  abortion,  punishing  them  with  death  or  blindness. 

The  early  Christians  did  much  to  check  this  horrid  vice. 
Always  charitable,  they  devoted  a  considerable  share  of 
their  alms  to  the  care  and  education  of  abandoned  infants, 
large  numbers  of  which  class  were  reared  as  Christians,  but  it 
was  several  centuries  before  Christian  foundling  hospitals 
were  established.  The  first  one  known  to  have  existed  was  at 
Milan,  in  the  eighth  century,  though  it  is  said  that  there  was 
one  at  Treves  as  early  as  the  sixth  century.  In  the  ninth  cen¬ 
tury  the  Council  of  Rouen  invited  the  mothers  of  children, 
secretly  born,  to  leave  them  at  the  door  of  the  church,  with 
the  promise  that  they  should  be  provided  for  until  reclaimed. 
It  appears  that  such  children  were  brought  up  as  slaves,  or 
serfs,  and  became  subject  to  the  church. 

The  institution  of  slavery  appears  to  have  been  one  of  the 
principal  supporters  of  the  custom  of  exposure  of  children,  and 
with  its  decline  the  barbarity  became  rare.  The  Christian 
doctrine  of  the  intrinsic  value  of  an  immortal  soul  is  prin¬ 
cipally  responsible  for  the  decline  of  infanticide  during  the 
middle  ages.  During  the  early  centuries  of  the  Christian 
Church,  one  of  its  crowning  glories  is  the  work  it  accom¬ 
plished  in  the  preservation  of  infant  life  and  the  consequent 
elevation  of  the  sentiment  of  the  world  touching  the  sanctity 
of  human  life  in  general. 

The  crime  known  as  abortion  is  so  nearly  associated  with 
that  of  infanticide  that  a  discussion  of  the  latter  without  some 


/ 


INFANTICIDE 


5i5 


reference  to  the  former  is  hardly  possible.  With  the  Pagans, 
this  was  looked  upon  as  a  very  slight  offense,  and  was,  indeed, 
openly  advocated  in  both  Greece  and  Rome.  Aristotle  highly 
commended  it,  and  insisted  that  it  should  be  enforced  by  law 
when  the  population  had  passed  a  certain  limit.  Among  the 
Pagans  it  was  condemned  by  no  law  for  many  centuries. 
Both  Christian  and  Pagan  authorities  unite  in  declaring  that 
the  practice  was  extremely  common,  and  seldom  resulted  in 
unfavorable  comment.  A  woman  who  never  resorted  to  it 
appears  to  have  been  rare,  and  is  spoken  of  by  these  writers  in 
terms  of  highest  praise.  Indeed,  during  many  centuries,  the 
perpetration  of  this  crime  was  a  regular  profession,  both  in 
Greece  and  Rome.  At  the  same  time,  the  really  great  think¬ 
ers  and  writers  of  Pagan  times  regarded  abortion  as  unques¬ 
tionably  criminal  and  inexcusable  on  moral  grounds.  Among 
these  may  be  mentioned  Seneca,  Ovid,  Plutarch  and  Juvenal. 
“It  was  probably  regarded,”  says  Lecky,  “by  the  average 
Romans  of  the  later  days  of  Paganism  much  as  Englishmen  in 
the  last  century  regarded  convivial  excesses,  as  certainly 
wrong,  but  so  venial  as  scarcely  to  deserve  censure.” 

From  the  first,  the  Christians  took  radically  different 
ground.  Without  exception  they  constantly  denounced  the 
practice  as  most  inhuman,  and  unhesitatingly  classed  it  as 
murder.  By  the  Council  of  Ancyra,  the  sacrament  was  with¬ 
held  from  the  guilty  mother,  even  to  the  hour  of  her  death, 
but  this  penalty  was  subsequently  reduced  to  seven  years’ 
penitence.  The  enormity  of  this  crime  in  the  eyes  of  the 
early  Christians  was  largely  due  to  the  doctrine  that  unbap¬ 
tized  children  were  condemned  to  eternal  death. 

What  has  been  said  of  Greece  and  Rome  is  true  of  most  of 
the  peoples  of  antiquity,  infant  life  being  almost  universally 
held  at  a  very  low  value  by  the  ancients.  This  is  particularly 
true  of  India  and  China,  where  the  practice  still  prevails  to  an 
alarming  extent.  All  are  familiar  with  the  fearful  practice  of 
the  Hindoo  mothers  in  disposing  of  their  infants,  particularly 
the  females,  by  throwing  them  into  the  Ganges  to  drown  or  be 
devoured  by  crocodiles.  The  amount  of  life  sacrificed  in 
China  can  hardly  be  approximated,  but  it  is  known  to  be 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


516 

enormous.  In  that  country  infanticide  is  not  regarded  as 
morally  wrong.  Among  the  Norsemen  the  life  of  a  child 
hung  in  the  balance  until  the  father,  after  examining  it  critic¬ 
ally,  handed  it  to  the  nurse  to  be  reared.  If  it  appeared  weak, 
or  ill-favored,  particularly  if  a  daughter,  it  was  exposed  to  die 
of  the  weather  or  be  devoured  by  wild  beasts. 

Even  in  our  own  times,  infanticide  prevails  to  an  alarming 
extent  among  many  peoples.  Throughout  the  whole  of  the 
South  Sea  Islands  child-murder  is  systematically  and  exten¬ 
sively  practiced.  Among  the  Fijians  it  was  reduced  to  an 
absolute  system,  which  probably  prevails  at  present.  It  is 
said  that  more  than  one-half  of  all  the  children  born  in  Vanua- 
Levu  are  destroyed  in  infancy.  In  India  the  practice  has 
been  abated  somewhat  by  the  stringent  measures  adopted  by 
the  English  government.  The  Rajputs,  it  is  said,  destroy  all 
female  children  but  the  first-born — a  peculiar  custom  due  to 
its  being  a  point  of  honor  with  a  Rajput  to  nearly  ruin  himself 
in  the  marriage  feast  and  portion  of  his  daughter,  so  that  he 
could  not  afford  to  have  more  than  one.  The  Mohammedans 
were  inclined  to  the  same  practice,  but  effected  their  object 
chiefly  by  means  of  abortion. 

The  position  of  modern  civilization  with  reference  to 
infanticide  is  radically  different  from  that  entertained  in 
ancient  and  medieval  times.  The  maxim  of  the  law  touching 
human  life,  which  is  amply  sustained  by  the  sentiment  of 
civilized  nations,  is  that  from  its  inception  to  its  close  it  is  a 
sacred  thing,  and  that  whoever  terminates  it  is  a  murderer,  or 
a  criminal  to  be  classed  with  murderers.  Instead  of  favoring 
and  encouraging  the  destruction  of  human  life,  as  we  have 
seen,  was,  to  a  certain  extent  at  least,  done  by  the  ancients,  our 
modern  civilization  takes  a  diametrically  opposite  course,  and 
devises  and  employs  all  possible  machinery  to  preserve  and 
extend  it.  Not  only  is  infanticide  punished  by  severe 
penalties,  the  offense  being  classed  as  murder,  but  means  are 
provided  to  reduce  it  to  the  lowest  possible  limits  by  present¬ 
ing  an  escape  from  exposure  and  consequent  shame,  which,  as 
already  suggested,  is  the  most  fruitful  source  of  infanticide 
especially  in  our  times. 


INFANTICIDE 


5*7 


In  the  list  of  remedies  provided  by  society  for  the  suppres¬ 
sion  of  this  odious  vice,  the  most  prominent  and  the  most  suc¬ 
cessful  ever  devised  is  that  of  foundling  hospitals,  whose 
origin  has  been  already  referred  to.  These  institutions 
became  quite  common  in  Europe  nearly  a  thousand  years  ago. 
In  1070  a  foundling  hospital  was  established  at  Montpelier;  in 
1200  in  Elmbeck;  in  1212  in  Rome;  in  Florence  in  1317;  in 
Nurnberg  in  1331;  in  Paris  in  1362;  in  Vienna  in  1380.  In 
France  the  utility  of  these  establishments,  which  were  the 
especial  labor  of  Vincent  de  Paul,  was  early  called  in  ques¬ 
tion;  and  letters  patent  of  Charles  VII.,  in  1445,  affirmed  that 
“many  persons  would  make  less  difficulty  in  abandoning  them¬ 
selves  to  sin  when  they  saw  they  were  not  to  have  the  charge 
of  the  upbringing  of  their  infants.  ”  In  Germany  the  system 
of  foundling  hospitals  was  soon  abandoned,  the  duty  of  rear¬ 
ing  the  children  being,  as  in  England,  imposed  by  law,  first  on 
the  parents,  then  on  more  distant  relatives,  whom  failing,  on 
the  parish,  and,  last  of  all,  on  the  State.  The  reproach  made 
by  the  Roman  Catholic  countries  against  this  more  natural 
arrangement — that  it  tends  to  promote  infanticide — is  said  to 
have  been  in  no  degree  established  by  statistical  investiga¬ 
tions. 

The  Revolution  introduced  many  changes  in  France,  but 
the  new  government  not  only  adopted  the  system  of  foundling 
hospitals,  but  greatly  extended  their  scope,  declaring  all 
infants  that  had  been  abandoned  by  their  parents  “Children  of 
the  State,”  and  providing  for  their  maintenance  and  educa¬ 
tion.  They  carried  the  matter  to  a  point  that  no  doubt 
encouraged  immorality,  by  declaring  that  every  girl  who 
declared  her  pregnancy  should  receive  a  reward  of  120  francs. 
This  ridiculous  rule  was  abolished  in  1811,  but  the  system  of 
maintaining  illegitimate  children  was  continued,  and  every 
town  in  France  of  any  importance  was  provided  with  a  found¬ 
ling  hospital  and  a  turning  wheel.  This  last  was  a  mechanical 
device  by  means  of  which  a  child  could  be  introduced  into  the 
hospital  without  the  identity  of  the  person  depositing  it  being 
made  known.  The  expense  of  rearing  a  child  in  one  of  these 
hospitals  to  the  age  of  twelve  years  has  been  computed  at  a 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


5iS 

little  less  than  $200.  When  a  child  is  received  it  is  weighed, 
medically  examined  and  registered.  Nurses  are  provided, 
and  many  children  are  boarded  outside  the  walls  of  the  hos¬ 
pital.  Under  the  old  system  in  France  an  abandoned  child 
might  be  reclaimed  at  any  time. 

The  question  of  retaining  the  turning- wheel  has  provoked 
much  discussion  in  France,  and  it  has  now  been  practically 
abolished.  The  principal  argument  in  its  favor  is  the  claim 
that  it  tends  to  reduce  the  crime  of  infanticide  by  providing  a 
means  by  which  a  mother  can  dispose  of  her  child,  with  the 
assurance  that  it  will  be  well  cared  for  and  without  the  shame 
of  a  public  disclosure.  On  the  other  hand,  it  was  strongly 
urged  that  such  an  arrangement  placed  a  premium,  almost, 
upon  immorality,  by  providing  a  convenient  means  of  escap¬ 
ing  from  its  legitimate  effects.  At  any  rate,  the  turning- 
wheel  was  most  liberally  patronized.  An  official  report  by 
M.  Gasparin,  in  1837,  showed  that  abandonment  of  children 
in  France  had  increased  from  70,000  in  1811  to  150,000  in  1837. 
Besides  this,  he  demonstrated  that  infant  mortality  was  abso¬ 
lutely  appalling,  and  that  such  a  vast  number  of  people,  with¬ 
out  families,  wealth  or  friends,  turned  out  in  their  youth, 
swelled  the  already  well-filled  ranks  of  criminals  and  aban¬ 
doned  women. 

Recently,  the  system  in  France  has  been  radically  changed, 
the  policy  being  to  assist  mothers  in  the  care  and  maintenance 
of  their  illegitimate  children,  rather  than  separating  them. 
This  has  been  found  to  work  admirably,  the  number  of 
exposures  having  decidedly  diminished.  At  present  there  are 
considerably  over  a  hundred  foundling  hospitals  in  France. 
They  are  numerous  in  Spain,  Portugal,  Belgium,  Austria  and 
Norway.  Moscow  and  St.  Petersburg  contain  the  largest  in 
the  world.  The  Foundling  Hospital  in  London  was  estab¬ 
lished  in  1759.  The  system  was  never  approved  in  England, 
and  the  London  Hospital  was  changed  in  1760  to  an  asylum 
for  illegitimate  children,  whose  mothers  were  known.  There 
are  but  few  of  these  institutions  in  the  United  States,  and 
these  are  supported  by  private  charity. 

At  the  present  time  infanticide  is  accounted  murder,  and 


INFANTICIDE 


5i9 


punished  as  such  by  all  civilized  nations,  the  age  of  the  party 
killing  in  no  sense  mitigating  the  offense.  This  crime  is,  how¬ 
ever,  an  exceedingly  difficult  one  to  establish,  since  it  must  be 
proven  that  the  child  was  born  alive  and  subsequently  mur¬ 
dered.  Child-murder  may  also  be  accomplished  in  a  negative 
way;  that  is,  by  neglecting  to  supply  proper  sustenance  or 
care,  upon  which  infant  life  depends  to  a  very  large  extent, 
and  the  death  of  an  infant  through  the  neglect  of  those  whose 
legal  duty  it  is  to  provide  for  it,  is  a  felony  in  most  countries, 
and  may  be  adjudged  murder  under  some  circumstances. 
Exposure  of  infants  is  now  generally  punished  as  a  misde¬ 
meanor,  as  also  is  the  concealment  of  the  death  of  a  child. 

The  outline  presented  of  the  history  of  infanticide  plainly 
and  convincingly  demonstrates,  what  the  author  has  frequently 
suggested  and  desires  to  especially  emphasize,  that  the  moral 
standard  of  mankind  has  been  immensely  elevated  during  the 
past  two  thousand  years.  While  it  does  not  of  necessity  fol¬ 
low  that  actual  advancement  has  kept  pace  with  the  improved 
moral  tone  of  the  world,  the  circumstance  is  still  of  almost 
incalculable  importance.  While  a  people  never  rise  to  the 
full  height  of  their  best  standard  of  morals,  it  is  equally  cer¬ 
tain  that  they  never  surpass  that  standard.  The  civilization 
of  the  Pagans  of  Greece  and  Rome,  particularly  that  of  the 
better  classes  of  the  people,  is  hardly  surpassed  by  that  of  our 
own  time.  While  we  exceed  them  in  the  matter  of  inventions 
and  those  industries  that  go  to  make  up  the  temporal  wealth 
and  happiness  of  mankind,  we  hardly  equal  them  in  the 
domain  of  literature  and  art.  Science  has  made  wonderful 
advancement  since  the  days  of  the  Roman  Empire,  but  refine¬ 
ment  and  taste  have  rather  retrograded.  In  the  field  of 
morals,  however,  we  are  far  in  advance  of  the  Pagans.  As 
has  been  shown,  man}7  of  the  best  men  of  antiquity  either 
advocated  or  very  lightly  condemned  infanticide,  which  was 
almost  universally  practiced;  while  in  our  day,  no  wretch  is  so 
debased  but  what  he  well  understands  that  it  is  morally  as  well 
as  legally  wrong. 

Many  of  the  Pagan  philosophers,  both  of  Greece  and  Rome, 
were  men  of  high  moral  standard  and  almost  faultless  lives. 


520  MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 

Yet  their  standard  depended  entirely  upon  human  reason,  and 
was,  of  necessity,  subject  to  bias  and  distortion.  With  the 
advent  of  Christianity  a  system  was  established  that  far  tran¬ 
scended  the  power  of  man  to  invent,  which  consisted  of  a  code 
of  the  highest  morality,  accompanied  by  an  enthusiasm  born 
of  devotion  to  its  Divine  Author. 

The  ancients  deprived  deformed  and  sickly  children  of  their 
lives,  while  the  moderns  treat  those  unfortunate  classes  with 
exceptional  consideration  and  tenderness.  The  modern 
mother  frequently  loves  her  blind  or  ill-shapen  child  better 
than  any  of  her  handsome  offspring.  Does  not  this  compar¬ 
ison  show  that  the  world  is  growing  better? 


CHAPTER  XXX 


SUICIDE 

“Thou  shalt  not  kill!”  Whether  this  command,  written 
on  a  table  of  stone  by  the  finger  of  God,  divinely  interdicts  the 
taking  of  one’s  own  life,  has  been  discussed  from  time 
immemorial.  Among  Christians  the  decision  has  almost  uni¬ 
formly  been  in  the  affirmative,  and  the  Jews  have  universally 
adopted  the  same  interpretation.  Shakespeare  sets  forth  the 
popular  opinion  of  his  time  in  the  words  of  the  king,  Lord 
Hamlet’s  uncle,  who  suggests  that  he  might  commit  suicide, 
“had  not  the  Almighty  set  his  canon  ’gainst  self-slaughter.” 
Although  not  murder,  suicide  is  a  form  of  homicide,  and  seems 
properly  to  have  a  place  in  a  volume  treating  of  the  taking  of 
human  life. 

The  enlightened  sentiment  of  civilized  mankind  is  strongly 
opposed  to  suicide,  and  only  half-civilized,  superstitious  and 
idolatrous  peoples,  or  those  who  scoff  at  all  religion,  at  pres¬ 
ent  attempt  to  defend  the  practice.  In  view  of  this  fact,  it  is 
somewhat  remarkable  that  of  all  the  various  original  religious 
creeds  of  the  world,  only  one,  distinctly  and  in  terms,  con¬ 
demned  the  taking  of  one’s  own  life.  Mohammed  absolutely 
forbade  suicide  in  the  Koran,  and  his  followers  have  always 
religiously  followed  the  command,  the  offense  being  exceed¬ 
ingly  rare  among  them. 

The  first  instance  of  suicide  mentioned  in  the  Bible,  and 
perhaps  the  earliest  that  has  come  down  to  us,  is  that  of  Sam¬ 
son.  In  his  case  revenge  was  clearly  the  leading  motive  that 
induced  him  to  give  up  his  own  life.  At  the  time  when  he 
killed  so  many  of  the  Philistines  and  ended  his  own  life,  he 
was.  blind  and  a  slave,  and  a  continuance  of  life  could  have 
presented  few  charms  to  the  one-time  physical  monarch  of 

521 


522 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


mankind;  nevertheless,  revenge  was  clearly  the  leading  motive. 
This  is  evident  from  the  prayer  he  uttered  immediately  before 
the  consummation  of  the  rash  and  awfully  fatal  act:  “O  Lord 
God,  remember  me,  I  pray  thee,  only  this  once,  O  God,  that  I 
may  at  once  be  avenged  of  the  Philistines  for  my  two  eyes.” 

Such  a  prayer,  asking  for  divine  strength  to  commit  mur¬ 
der  and  suicide,  would  be  blasphemous  to  us,  but  we  must  not 
forget  that  God  causes  the  wrath  of  man  to  praise  Him,  and 
that  His  ways  are  past  finding  out.  Wicked  and  desperate  as 
it  was,  the  act  of  Samson  was  utilized  to  punish  the  Philis¬ 
tines  and  to  advance  the  plans  of  the  Almighty. 

To  show  that  the  Mosaic  Law  was  probably  understood 
as  interdicting  suicide,  mention  may  be  made  of  the  circum¬ 
stance  that  but  four  instances,  in  addition  to  that  of  Samson, 
are  mentioned  in  the  Bible.  The  second  and  third  of  these 
are  those  of  Saul  and  his  armor-bearer,  which  are  thus 
recorded  in  the  Scriptures : 

“And  the  battle  went  sore  against  Saul,  and  the  archers 
hit  him,  and  he  was  sore  wounded  of  the  archers.  Then  Saul 
said  unto  his  armor-bearer,  Draw  thy  sword,  and  thrust  me 
through  therewith ;  lest  these  uncircumcised  come  and  thrust 
me  through,  and  abuse  me.  But  his  armor-bearer  would  not, 
for  he  was  sore  afraid;  therefore  Saul  took  a  sword  and  fell 
upon  it.  And  when  his  armor-bearer  saw  that  Saul  was  dead, 
he  fell  likewise  upon  his  sword  and  died  with  him.” 

The  fourth  Biblical  suicide  is  that  of  Ahithophel,  and  is  of 
much  the  same  order  as  that  of  Saul.  Ahithophel,  in  company 
with  Absalom,  the  son  of  David,  had  fomented  rebellion 
against  the  established  government.  The  plot  having  failed, 
the  designing  and  wicked  man  took  his  own  life  to  escape  the 
legitimate  consequences  of  his  own  wrong-doing.  It  is 
recorded  that  he  hanged  himself,  thus  proving  the  prototype 
of  a  long  list  of  suicides  who  have  imitated  his  method  in 
“shuffling  off  this  mortal  coil.” 

The  fifth  and  last  suicide  mentioned  in  the  Scriptures  is 
that  of  Judas  Iscariot.  The  circumstances  attending  his  case 
are  too  well  kno\yn  to  require  detailing.  Having  committed  a 
sin,  in  some  aspects  unrivaled  in  the  annals  of  crime,  which 


SUICIDE 


523 


has  made  his  name  a  synonym  for  treachery,  he  was  seized 
with  such  a  deep  remorse  that,  having  first  contemptuously 
thrown  down  the  price  of  his  infamy  before  his  bribers,  he 
went  out,  and,  imitating  Ahithophel,  hanged  himself.  Atten¬ 
tion  should  be  called  to  the  circumstance  that  the  first  chapter 
of  Acts  seems  to  indicate  that  Judas  did  not  commit  suicide, 
but  died  an  accidental  death,  and  that  all  the  early  traditions 
dispose  of  him  in  the  same  way. 

An  additional  instance  is  sometimes  quoted,  in  that  of 
Abimelech,  but  his  case  is  clearly  not  one  of  true  suicide. 
While  storming  a  walled  town  he  was  severely  wounded  on 
the  head  by  a  stone,  cast  from  the  hand  of  a  woman,  upon  the 
wall.  Feeling  that  his  end  was  fast  approaching,  he  directed 
his  armor-bearer  to  kill  him  with  his  sword  that  it  might  not 
be  said  that  a  woman  slew  him.  A  Hebrew  historian,  in  relat¬ 
ing  this  event,  says  that  his  death  was  a  divine  judgment  for 
having  wickedly  slain  his  seventy  brethren. 

Although  the  Jews,  even  down  to  the  present  day,  have 
been  generally  opposed  to  suicide  and  have  seldom  died  by 
their  own  hands,  instances  of  wholesale  self-slaughter  have 
not  been  wanting  among  them.  The  leading  case  is  that  of 
Eleazer,  who,  together  with  about  a  thousand  others,  took 
refuge  in  Massada,  after  the  capture  of  Jerusalem,  and 
Josephus,  one  of  the  most  exact  historians  that  ever  lived,  has 
furnished  us  with  a  detailed  account  of  this  most  remarkable 
slaughter.  Massada,  which  was  quite  a  noted  stronghold, 
was  besieged  by  the  Romans  under  Siloa.  When  it  became 
certain  that  they  were  sure  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  their 
enemies,  the  Jews  decided  to  die  by  their  own  hands  rather 
than  surrender  to  a  foe,  from  whom  they  had  no  reason  to 
expect  mercy.  In  words  that  fail  to  suggest  anything  of  dis¬ 
approval,  Josephus  thus  describes  how  they  reached  this 
desperate  conclusion. 

“The  wall,  however,  being  consumed  to  the  ground,  and 
no  hope  or  possibility  left  of  safety  or  relief,  the  only  brave 
thing  they  had  before  them  was  to  consider  how  they  might 
deliver  their  wives  and  children  from  the  ignominious  out¬ 
rages  they  might  expect  from  the  Romans,  whenever  they 


524 


MURDER*  IN  ALL  AGES 


became  the  masters  of  the  place.  Eleazar  concluded,  upon  the 
balancing  of  this  question,  that  a  glorious  death  was  infinitely 
to  be  preferred  to  a  life  of  infamy,  and  that  the  most  gener¬ 
ous  resolution  they  could  take  in  the  world  would  be  not  to 
outlive  their  liberties.  ’  ’ 

It  appears  that  Eleazar,  having  reached  this  determination, 
called  his  people  together  and  proceeded  to  eloquently  argue 
the  importance  of  adopting  it.  When  he  concluded  many 
converts  had  been  made,  but  a  large  number  remained  uncon¬ 
vinced,  and  a  second  harangue  became  necessary.  In  an 
impassioned  address  Eleazar  again  advocated  the  cause  of  sui¬ 
cide;  he  depicted  the  dreadful  scenes  that  would  follow  a 
capture,  and  by  his  impassioned  words  so  wrought  up  his 
followers  that  they  all  rendered  a  hearty  assent.  In  describ¬ 
ing  the  scene  that  ensued,  Josephus  says: 

“Such  was  the  passion  these  people  had  for  the  destruction 
of  themselves  and  their  families  that  not  one  man  of  them 
shrank  when  they  came  to  execution.  They  took  their  last 
leave  of  their  wives  and  children  in  their  arms  with  a  kiss  and 
a  stab.  This  was  a  miserable  necessity,  but  they  were  driven 
upon  it  by  a  miserable  choice;  for  the  destroying  of  their 
wives  and  children — as  it  appeared  to  them — was  the  least  evil 
they  had  before  them.’’ 

After  this  slaughter  they  gathered  together  their  portable 
property  and  burnt  it,  and  then,  “choosing  ten  men  by  lot  of 
their  number  to  do  execution  upon  all  the  rest,  they  ranged 
themselves  as  near  as  they  could  to  the  dead  bodies  of  their 
friends,  gave  them  a  parting  embrace,  and  cheerfully  pre¬ 
sented  their  throats  to  those  who  were  to  do  the  inhuman 
office.  So  soon  as  the  ten  had,  with  a  mighty  resolution,  dis¬ 
charged  their  part,  they  cast  lots  among  themselves  which  of 
the  remaining  ten  should  dispatch  the  other  nine,  with  a  con¬ 
dition  that  the  surviving  tenth  man  should  kill  himself  upon 
the  bodies  of  the  rest,  such  confidence  had  these  people  in  one 
another.  The  nine  died  with  the  same  constancy  as  the  rest. 
The  last  man  overlooked  the  bodies,  and  finding  that  they 
were  all  stark  dead,  set  fire  to  the  palace,  and  so  cast  himself 
upon  his  sword  among  his  friends.  The  number  of  the  slain 


SUICIDE 


525 


was  nine  hundred  and  sixty,  reckoning  women  and  children 
into  the  account.  ’  ’ 

No  people  who  ever  lived  were  better  accustomed  to  scenes 
of  dreadful  slaughter  than  were  the  Romans  at  this  time,  yet 
even  they  were  horrified  at  the  fearful  carnage.  Of  all  the 
stronghold,  only  seven  escaped  death.  These  consisted  of  two 
women  and  five  children  who  had  taken  refuge  in  an  aque¬ 
duct  to  save  their  lives. 

These  “told  the  Romans  the  whole  story,  which  was  so 
incredible,  however,  that  they  could  not  believe  it.  But 
betaking  themselves  to  the  quenching  of  the  fire,  and  following 
their  way  to  the  palace,  they  found  such  a  carnage  of  dead 
bodies  that  without  insulting  and  rejoicing  as  enemies  they 
brake  into  admiration  at  the  generous  greatness  of  the  Jews’ 
minds,  the  steadiness  of  their  counsels,  and  the  obstinate 
agreement  of  such  a  number  of  men  in  the  contempt  of 
death.  ” 

The  great  historian  Josephus  came  near  sharing  a  like  fate 
himself.  About  the  same  time,  while  at  the  head  of  a  Jewish 
army,  he  was  besieged  at  Jotaphat.  Finding  his  case  hope¬ 
less,  Josephus  decided  to  surrender  to  the  enemy,  but  to  this 
order  his  troops  refused  to  agree,  urging  the  nobler  course  of 
self-destruction.  Replying,  the  commander  set  forth  the  sin 
of  suicide,  but  his  eloquent  address  failed  to  be  convincing. 
The  soldiers  cast  lots  for  executioners,  and  proceeded  to  kill 
each  other  until  only  Josephus  and  one  soldier  remained.  At 
this  point  the  Jewish  captain  and  author  proceeded  to  argue 
the  point  again  with  his  companion,  as  a  result  of  which  both 
surrendered  themselves  to  the  Romans.  Neither  in  sacred  or 
profane  times  do  the  Jews  seem  to  have  looked  upon  suicide  as 
a  very  grievous  offense,  and  no  indignity  appears  to  have  been 
shown  to  the  bodies  of  those  who  had  taken  their  own  lives. 

Brahminism  is  among  the  most  ancient  of  all  the  religious 
creeds  of  the  world.  The  teachings  of  this  sect  were  very 
favorable  to  the  commission  of  suicide.  With  the  Brahmins 
there  was  nothing  of  individuality  in  the  soul.  They  believed 
that  each  that  lived  was  but  a  part  of  the  great  universal  soul 
to  which  all  would  ultimately  return  and  be  absorbed. 


526  MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 

According  to  their  theory,  a  certain  degree  of  perfection  must 
be  obtained  by  the  individual  before  the  blissful  reunion  with 
God  could  be  effected.  They  believed  in  the  transmigration 
of  souls,  and  expected  to  return  again  to  what  they  regarded 
as  scenes  of  trial  and  suffering,  rather  than  enjoyment. 

From  such  a  philosophy,  universally  believed,  a  contempt 
for  life  and  a  desire  for  death  was  the  natural  sequence.  To 
the  Brahmin,  life  was  nothing,  God  everything;  time  not  to 
be  considered,  eternity  of  the  last  importance.  Such  men 
could  not  be  expected  to  have  any  strong  love  of  life. 
Doubtless  they  shared  this  in  common  with  all  that  live,  but 
their  education  had  well-nigh  stifled  it,  and  left  death  as  the 
one  really  desirable  thing.  Few  of  us  are  entirely  satisfied 
with  our  earthly  condition,  but  “the  dread  of  something  after 
death’’  holds  most  of  us  in  subjection  to  our  present  environ¬ 
ment.  To  the  believer  in  this  peculiar  faith,  death  had  no 
such  terrors ;  indeed,  he  welcomed  it,  hoping  that  a  re-incarna¬ 
tion  might  improve  his  condition,  make  existence  more  bear¬ 
able,  and  reduce  the  distance  that  separated  him  from  the 
oblivion  for  which  he  yearned.  Thus  suicide  became  a 
common  mode  of  death.  This  was  particularly  true  where  one 
was  afflicted  with  disease,  or  was,  for  any  reason,  tired  of  life. 
Thus,  religious  fanaticism  and  disease  united  to  furnish  most 
of  the  victims  drowned  in  the  Ganges  or  crushed  beneath  the 
wheels  of  the  car  of  Juggernaut.  At  the  present  day,  even,  it 
is  the  common  practice  of  those  afflicted  with  an  incurable 
disease  to  seek  death  beneath  the  waters  of  the  sacred  river. 

It  was  a  general  belief  that  lepers,  and  those  dying  of  any 
other  disease,  would  be  afflicted  in  the  same  way  in  their  next 
re-incarnation.  The  only  escape  from  this  fate  was  to  perish 
by  fire.  Accordingly,  vast  numbers  of  this  class  ended  their 
existence  by  casting  themselves  living  into  flames.  The 
Hindoo  had  many  other  methods  of  committing  suicide,  among 
them  precipitation  from  great  heights,  starvation  and  burial 
alive.  In  addition  to  these,  self-decapitation  was  frequently 
practiced.  Touching  this  method,  Ward,  in  his  “Hindoos,” 
says: 

“There  existed  formerly,  at  a  village  near  Nudeeya,  an 


SUICIDE) 


527 


instrument  which  was  used  by  devotees  to  cut  off  their  own 
heads.  It  was  made  in  the  shape  of  a  half-moon,  with  a  sharp 
edge,  and  was  placed  at  the  back  of  the  neck,  having  chains 
fastened  at  the  two  extremities.  The  infatuated  devotee, 
placing  his  feet  in  the  two  stirrups,  gave  a  violent  jerk,  and 
severed  his  head  from  his  body.” 

Buddhism,  which  was  a  revolt  against  Brahminism,  was 
still  more  favorable  to  suicide.  With  these  two  great  sects  the 
conditions  were  almost  exactly  reversed.  With  the  Brahmin, 
God  was  everything,  with  the  Buddhist,  nothing.  One  looked 
forward  to  being  reabsorbed  into  the  general  soul,  the  other 
to  becoming  a  god  himself.  The  latter  was  anxious  to  pursue 
his  journey  toward  a  higher  life,  and  regarded  suicide  as  the 
means  of  accelerating  it. 

Even  at  the  present  time  the  Buddhist  considers  suicide  as 
justifiable  under  many  circumstances.  In  China  there  are 
some  exceptions  to  this  rule,  and  some  suicides  are  regarded  as 
dishonorable,  as  those  which  result  from  losses  at  gambling, 
and  some  others.  But  in  general,  in  China  and  Japan, 
wherever  Buddhism  has  gained  a  foothold — and  it  is  now  strong 
in  both  countries — a  very  small  value  is  placed  upon  human 
life,  and  it  is  given  up  upon  the  most  trifling  occasion  and 
often  without  any  reasonable  provocation  being  apparent. 
With  the  true  Buddhist  the  love  of  death,  or  rather  the 
eternal  joys  that  are  to  follow,  takes  the  place  of  the  love  of 
life,  which  is  the  ruling  passion  of  most  mortals,  and  he 
welcomes  any  reasonable  pretext  to  quit  a  disagreeable 
environment. 

When  a  Chinese  or  Japanese  Buddhist  is  insulted,  instead 
of  taking  the  life  of  his  enemy  he  commits  suicide.  Writing  a 
century  ago,  Charlevoix,  in  his  history  of  Japan,  says: 

‘‘Nothing  is  more  common  than  to  see  boats  filled  with 
fanatical  worshipers  lining  the  shore,  who  weight  themselves 
with  stones  and  plunge  into  the  sea,  or  scuttle  their  vessels, 
and  sink  with  them  beneath  the  waves,  all  the  while  pouring 
forth  glad  hymns  to  their  idols.  A  crowd  of  spectators  stand¬ 
ing  looking  on  praise  them  to  the  skies,  and  entreat  their 
blessing  before  they  disappear.  The  votaries  of  Amida 


528 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


immure  themselves  in  caves  having  only  one  small  breathing 
hole,  and  barely  sitting  room,  where  they  quietly  wait  death 
by  starvation.  Others  plunge  into  sulphur  pits,  invoking  their 
gods  and  entreating  them  to  graciously  accept  the  sacrifice  of 
their  lives.”  The  lapse  of  a  hundred  years  has  wrought 
little  change  in  Japan  and  China,  where  suicide  is  a  very 
common  occurrence;  drowning,  starvation,  hara-kiri,  or  dis- 
embowelment,  hanging  and  several  other  modes  being 
employed. 

The  calm  deliberation  of  Japanese  suicides  is  remarkable. 
Once  a  Japanese  has  made  up  his  mind  to  quit  this  life  for  a 
better  one,  he  passes  several  nights  without  sleep,  and  sur¬ 
rounded  by  those  of  his  friends  to  whom  he  has  confided  his 
intention.  Discourses  on  contempt  of  life,  varied  by  public 
harangues  on  the  one  absorbing  subject  of  his  thoughts,  fill 
up  the  remainder  of  his  days.  At  the  approach  of  the 
appointed  hour,  he  summons  his  family  and  friends.  Choos¬ 
ing  from  among  them  such  as  are  willing  to  die  with  him,  gen¬ 
erally  a  goodly  number,  he  partakes  of  a  funeral  banquet  and 
expires. 

Suicide  was  rare  among  the  early  Greeks,  and  did  not 
become  common  until  intercourse  with  the  Romans  had  con¬ 
taminated  them  in  many  ways.  Their  views  of  death  were  in 
marked  contrast  to  the  Asiatics,  and  they  violently  opposed 
self-destruction.  They  manifested  their  abhorrence  of  the 
practice  by  offering  indignities  to  the  body  of  the  suicide. 
Under  an  Athenian  law  such  a  corpse  could  not  be  buried  dur¬ 
ing  the  day.  As  a  further  emphasis  of  disapproval,  one  of  the 
hands  was  cut  off  and  buried  in  a  separate  place  to  show  that 
it  had  played  a  false  part  to  its  owner.  Under  no  circum¬ 
stances  could  the  body  of  a  suicide  receive  the  honorable  rites 
of  cremation. 

The  only  exception  made  by  the  ancient  Greeks  to  the  gen¬ 
eral  condemnation  of  suicide  was  those  cases  where  an  element 
of  patriotism  entered  into  the  act,  as  in  the  instance  of  King 
Codrus  and  Themistocles,  both  of  whom  were  looked  upon  as 
patriots.  When  Attica  was  invaded  by  the  Heraclidae,  King 
Codrus  disguised  himself  and  went  among  the  enemy  and 


ADOLPH  LUETGERT  INSTRUCTING  “SMOKEHOUSE  FRANK”  HOW  TO  CRUSH 

THE  POTASH. — PAGE  498. 


SUICIDE 


529 


picked  a  quarrel  with  some  soldiers,  which  resulted  in  his 

death,  which  was  the  object  he  sought  to  attain.  The 

“Oracle”  had  pronounced  that  the  leader  of  the  conquering 

army  would  surely  die,  and  to  make  the  necessary  condition 
% 

apply  to  his  side  the  king  gave  up  his  life,  believing,  no  doubt, 
that  it  would  insure  the  triumph  of  his  troops  and  the  liberty 
of  his  country.  Themistocles  was  not  condemned  for  com¬ 
mitting  suicide,  because  he  took  his  own  life  to  avoid  leading 
the  Persians  against  his  own  people. 

But  this  admirable  view  of  the  sacredness  of  human  life 
did  *not  continue  in  Greece.  The  rise  of  the  so-called  philo¬ 
sophical  schools  speedily  introduced  and  disseminated  far  differ¬ 
ent  notions,  and  swept  away  the  laws  and  customs  that  had 
long  prevailed.  The  Sophists  taught  the  people  that  their 
gods  were  only  myths,  invented  and  used  to  overawe  them, 
and  advanced  a  radically  new  doctrine,  viz.,  that  reason  is 
man’s  only  true  guide.  So  far,  this  was  a  decided  advance 
over  anything  that  had  preceded  it  among  the  Greeks,  but  the 
Sophists  carried  the  matter  much  farther,  and  declared  that 
man  had  absolute  freedom,  not  only  as  to  his  life,  but  as  to  his 
death  as  well.  As  this  philosophy  was  gradually  adopted  the 
views  of  the  people  toward  suicide  changed,  and  in  time  it 
came  to  be  looked  upon  as  a  perfectly  honorable  means  of 
quitting  a  life  that,  for  any  reason,  had  become  unbearable,  or 
even  distasteful. 

The  Cynics,  who  followed  the  Sophists,  considerably 
enlarged  upon  this  theory,  and,  as  a  result,  suicide  became  an 
every-day  occurrence.  Many  of  the  greatest  of  all  philosophers 
of  this  remarkable  school  died  by  their  own  hand.  Among 
them  may  be  recorded  Diogenes,  the  greatest  of  them  all, 
Stelpo,  Menedermus,  Onesicratus,  Metrocles,  Demonax  and 
Peregrinus. 

The  extreme  views  of  the  Buddhists  were  rivaled,  if  not 
surpassed,  by  those  of  the  Stoics,  who  followed  the  Cynics,  and 
from  whose  name  we  derive  “stoical,”  perhaps  our  strongest 
word  for  distinguishing  contempt  for  pain  and  misfortune. 
With  them,  suicide  became  a  veritable  dogma,  and  life  was 
depreciated  to  a  level  as  low  as  it  ever  fell  during  the  palmy 


530 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


days  of  Brahminism.  While  the  Stoics  taught  morality  and 
practiced  the  same,  leading  most  severe  and  highly  useful 
lives,  they  ceased  to  live  the  moment  they  found  life  dis¬ 
agreeable,  and  thus  exerted  a  tremendous  influence  upon  their 
time.  In  addition  to  Zeno,  the  founder  of  the  school, 
Cleanthus  and  many  others  took  their  own  lives. 

The  Epicureans  occupied  a  much  lower  position  than  any 
of  their  philosophic  predecessors.  With  them  life  was  only 
valuable  so  far  as  pleasure  could  be  derived  from  it,  and  they 
taught  and  practiced  the  theory  that  it  was  wise  to  die  the 
%  moment  that  existence  ceased  to  be  pleasurable  in  the  aggre¬ 
gate.  The  philosophies  of  Greece  soon  spread  to  Rome,  where 
they  produced  results  that  have  not  yet  ceased  to  effect  man¬ 
kind.  The  schools  that  were  best  received  by  the  Romans  were 
the  Stoics  and  Epicureans,  and  these  were  made  heartily  wel¬ 
come,  and  soon  became  widely  known  and  decidedly  fashion¬ 
able.  The  Romans  were  well  prepared  to  accept  the  doctrine 
of  suicide,  which  was  already  regarded  with  considerable 
favor.  The  fierce  fights  of  gladiators  and  the  numbers  of 
barbarian  captives  who  took  their  own  lives,  often  in  the 
public  arena,  rather  than  slay  their  fellow-countrymen,  had 
tended  to  greatly  reduce  the  value  of  human  life  and  give  sui¬ 
cide  a  decided  impetus. 

With  astonishing  rapidity,  suicide  became  what  in  the 
present  day  we  might  term  a  “fad.”  It  was  earnestly  propa¬ 
gated  by  multitudes  of  men,  some  of  whom  take  a  high  rank 
among  the  noblest  of  their  kind.  In  this  long  list  may  be 
included  such  names  as  Zeno,  Plato,  Seneca,  Cleanthus, 
Cicero,  Epiletus,  Marcus  Aurelius,  and  the  elder  Pliny.  Of 
the  great  men  of  Pagan  Europe,  a  very  large  proportion 
terminated  their  own  existence.  Thus  died  Lycurgus, 
Charondas,  Themistocles,  Demosthenes,  Aristarchus,  Cato, 
Brutus,  Cassius,  Mark  Antony,  Lucian,  Seneca,  Nero  and 
Otho,  and  a  large  number  of  others  whose  names  will  last  as 
long  as  civilization  continues  to  exist. 

Seneca,  the  tutor  of  the  base  and  cruel  Nero,  and  one  of 
the  wisest  and  best  of  all  the  ancients,  was  a  most  ardent  and 
powerful  advocate  of  suicide.  No  writer  has  ever  pleaded 


SUICIDE 


53i 


more  strongly  for  the  propriety  of  the  practice.  To  show  the 
view  that  almost  universally  prevailed  in  that  day,  a  few 
.eloquent,  almost  impassioned  sentences,  are  quoted  below  from 
the  works  of  the  great  philosopher : 

“To  death  alone  it  is  due  that  life  is  not  a  punishment, 
that,  erect  beneath  the  frowns  of  fortune,  I  can  preserve  my 
mind  unshaken  and  master  of  itself.  I  have  one  to  whom  I 
can  appeal.  I  see  before  me  the  crosses  of  many  forms — I  see 
the  rack  and  the  scourge,  and  the  instruments  of  torture 
adapted  to  every  limb  and  to  every  nerve;  but  I  also  see 
Death.  She  stands  beyond  my  savage  enemies,  beyond  my 
haughty  fellow-countrymen.  Slavery  loses  its  bitterness 
when  by  a  step  I  can  pass  to  liberty.  Against  all  the  injuries 
of  life  I  have  the  refuge  of  death.  Wherever  you  look,  there 
is  the  end  of  evils.  You  see  that  yawning  precipice — there 
you  may  descend  to  liberty.  You  see  that  sea,  that  river,  that 
well — liberty  sits  at  the  bottom.  Do  you  seek  the  way  to  free¬ 
dom? — you  may  find  it  in  every  vein  of  your  body.  If  I  can 
choose  between  the  death  of  torture  and  one  that  is  simple  and 
easy,  why  should  I  not  select  the  latter?  As  I  choose  the  ship 
in  which  I  sail,  and  the  house  I  will  inhabit,  so  I  will  choose 
the  death  by  which  I  will  leave  life.  In  no  matter  more  than 
death  should  we  act  according  to  our  desire.  Depart  from  life 
as  your  impulse  leads  you,  whether  it  be  by  the  sword,  or  the 
rope,  or  the  poison  creeping  through  the  veins ;  go  your  way, 
and  break  the  chains  of  slavery.  Man  should  seek  the  appro¬ 
bation  of  others  in  his  life ;  his  death  concerns  himself  alone. 
That  is  the  best  which  pleases  him  most.  The  eternal  law  has 
decreed  nothing  better  than  this ;  that  life  should  have  but  one 
entrance  and  many  exits.  Why  should  I  endure  the  agonies 
of  disease,  and  the  cruelties  of  human  tyranny,  when  I  can 
emancipate  myself  from  all  my  torments,  and  shake  off  every 
bond?  For  this  reason,  but  for  this  alone,  life  can  be  esteemed 
no  just  cause  of  complaint — that  no  one  is  obliged  to  live. 
The  lot  of  man  is  happy,  because  no  one  continues  wretched 
but  by  his  fault.  If  life  pleases  you,  live ;  if  not,  you  have  a 
right  to  return  whence  you  came.  ” 

The  Roman  law  did  little  to  retard  or  even  discourage  sui- 


532 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


cide;  indeed,  but  two  slight  restrictions  were  placed  upon 
what  was  recognized  as  the  universal  right  of  all.  It  had  long 
been  customary  for  those  who  were  accused  of  political 
offenses  to  take  their  own  lives  before  trial,  to  the  end  that 
they  might  avoid  the  ignominious  exposure  of  their  bodies, 
and  the  confiscation  of  their  goods  to  the  State.  Domitian  put 
a  stop  to  this  practice  by  decreeing  that  the  suicide  of  an 
accused  person  should  carry  with  it  the  same  condemnation 
and  penalties  as  though  he  had  been  tried  and  convicted. 
Afterwards,  the  Emperor  Hadrian  declared  the  suicide  of  a 
Roman  soldier  to  be  equivalent  to  desertion.  In  1802  his 
example  was  emulated  by  the  Emperor  Napoleon,  who  issued 
a  similar  order  to  check  the  prevalence  of  suicide  among  his 
soldiers. 

The  Emperor  Otho  is  said  to  have  committed  suicide  to 
avoid  being  a  second  time  the  cause  of  a  civil  war.  Upon  his 
death  some  of  his  soldiers,  filled  with  grief  and  admiration, 
killed  themselves  before  his  corpse.  It  is  said  that  the  suicide 
of  Otho  was  extolled  as  of  equal  grandeur  with  that  of  Cato. 
Cato  lived  during  the  Roman  Republic,  and  attempted  to 
bring  about  much-needed  reforms  in  the  commonwealth.  In 
this  he  opposed  the  three  most  powerful  men  in  Rome, 
Crassus,  Pompey  and  Caesar.  In  the  civil  wars  that  ensued 
Cato  finally  sided  with  Pompey,  after  whose  death  he  carried 
on  a  losing  fight.  His  last  act  was  the  defense  of  Utica. 
Here,  when  he  had  tidings  of  Caesar’s  victory  over  Scipio  at 
Thapsus  (April  6,  46  B.  C.),  Cato,  finding  that  his  troops  were 
wholly  intimidated,  advised  the  Roman  senators  and  knights 
to  escape  from  Utica,  and  make  terms  with  the  victor,  but  pro¬ 
hibited  all  intercessions  in  his  own  favor.  He  resolved  to  die 
rather  than  surrender,  and,  after  spending  the  night  in  read¬ 
ing  Plato’s  Phaedo,  which  argued  strongly  for  the  immortality 
of  the  soul,  committed  suicide  by  stabbing  himself  in  the 
breast. 

Joseph  Addison,  in  his  drama  of  Cato,  represents  the 
famous  soldier  and  statesman,  a  sword  and  the  scroll  of  Plato 
before  him,  soliloquizing  as  follows  over  his  contemplated  sui¬ 
cide  : 


SUICIDE 


533 


“  It  must  be  so;  Plato,  thou  reasonest  well! 

Else  whence  this  pleasing  hope,  this  fond  desire, 

This  longing  after  immortality? 

Or  whence  this  secret  dread,  the  inward  horror, 

Of  falling  into  naught?  Why  shrinks  the  soul 
Back  on  herself,  and  startles  at  destruction? 

’Tis  the  divinity  that  stirs  within  us; 

’Tis  Heaven  itself,  that  points  out  a  hereafter, 

And  intimates  eternity  to  man. 

Eternity !  thou  pleasing,  dreadful  thought ! 

Through  what  variety  of  untried  being, 

Through  what  new  scenes  and  changes  must  we  pass! 

The  wide,  the  unbounded  prospect  lies  before  me ; 

But  shadows,  clouds,  and  darkness  rest  upon  it. 

Here  will  I  hold.  If  there’s  a  Power  above  us 
(And  that  there  is,  all  Nature  cries  aloud 
Through  all  her  works),  he  must  delight  in  virtue; 

And  that  which  he  delights  in  must  be  happy. 

But  when?  or  where?  This  world  was  made  for  Caesar. 

\  i 

I’m  weary  of  conjectures, — this  must  end  them. 

[Laying  his  hand  on  his  sword] 

Thus  am  I  doubly  armed ;  my  death  and  life, 

My  bane  and  antidote,  are  both  before  me. 

This  in  a  moment  brings  me  to  an  end. 

But  this  informs  me  I  shall  never  die. 

The  soul  secured  in  her  existence,  smiles 
At  the  drawn  dagger — and  defies  its  point. 

The  stars  shall  fade  away,  the  sun  himself 
Grow  dim  with  age,  and  nature  sink  in  years ; 

But  thou  shalt  flourish  in  immortal  youth, 

Unhurt  amid  the  war  of  elements, 

The  wreck  of  matter,  and  the  crash  of  worlds!” 

A  story  that  illustrates  the  Roman  tendency  to  suicide  and 
likewise  shows  the  seemingly  slight  provocation  upon  which 
men  will  sacrifice  their  lives,  has  come  down  to  us  from  the 
days  of  ancient  Rome.  Tarquin,  known  as  “The  Proud,” 
having  finished  a  brilliant  campaign,  brought  his  victorious 
army  back  to  the  “Eternal  City.”  Having  no  enterprise  in 
hand  upon  which  he  could  employ  his  soldiers,  he  decided  to 
set  them  to  work  as  laborers  in  the  building  of  drains  and 
sewers  and  other  improvements  of  the  city.  The  soldiers 
rebelled  at  these  irksome  and  ignoble  tasks,  and,  having  no 


534 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


other  escape,  resorted  to  suicide.  This  now  developed  into  a 
regular  mania,  and  large  numbers  daily  took  their  own  lives; 
in  fact,  the  destruction  of  the  entire  army  began  to  be  seri¬ 
ously  threatened,  and  severe  methods  were  decided  upon  by 
Tarquin.  Accordingly,  he  issued  an  edict  to  the  effect  that 
the  bodies  of  all  soldiers  who  committed  suicide  should  be 
crucified  and  exposed  upon  the  streets  in  full  view  of  the 
curious  populace.  This  order  had  the  desired  effect,  the 
Roman  soldier  caring  more  for  what  he  deemed  his  honor 
than  he  did  for  his  life,  and  the  practice  disappeared.  It  may 
be  remarked,  in  passing,  that  efforts  to  employ  trained  soldiers 
in  menial  tasks  have  signally  failed  in  all  ages  of  the  world. 

The  self-destruction  of  Petronius  Arbiter,  the  favorite  of 
the  Emperor  Nero,  was  performed  in  an  altogether  unprec¬ 
edented  manner.  Petronius  was  charged  with  conspiracy 
against  the  life  of  the  emperor,  and,  as  the  charge  was 
credited,  he  determined  to  withdraw  himself  from  Nero’s 
punishment  by  a  voluntary  death.  He  ordered  his  veins  to  be 
opened,  and  apparently  wished  to  show  that  he  desired  to  die 
in  the  same  careless  and  unconcerned  manner  as  he  had 
lived.  He  passed  his  time  in  discoursing  with  his  friends 
upon  trifles,  and  listened  with  the  greatest  avidity  to  love 
verses,  amusing  stories  or  laughable  epigrams.  Sometimes  he 
manumitted  his  slaves  or  punished  them,  with  stripes.  In  this 
careless  and  ludicrous  manner  he  spent  his  last  moments,  until 
nature  was  exhausted.  Before  he  expired  he  wrote  an  epistle 
to  the  emperor,  in  which  he  described  with  a  masterly  hand  his 
nocturnal  extravagances,  and  the  daily  impurity  of  his  actions. 
This  letter  was  carefully  sealed,  and  after  he  had  caused  it  to 
be  conveyed  privately  to  the  emperor,  Petronius  broke  his 
signet,  that  it  might  not  after  his  death  become  a  snare  to  the 
innocent.  This  Petronius  is  the  leading  character  in  the 
popular  novel,  “QuoVadis.” 

Zeno,  the  founder  of  the  sect  of  stoical  philosophers,  who 
has  already  been  referred  to,  acted  up  to  the  principles  which 
he  inculcated  in  his  disciples.  It  is  recorded  that  his  suicide 
took  place  in  the  following  manner:  As  he  was  going  out  of 
his  school  one  day,  at  the  age  of  ninety-eight,  he  fell  down 


SUICIDE 


535 


and  put  a  finger  out  of  joint,  whereupon  he  exclaimed,  refer¬ 
ring  to  the  gods:  “So  you  want  me,  do  you?”  and  went  home 
and  hanged  himself.  Zeno’s  successor,  Cleanthus,  ended  his 
days  by  suicide  in  a  remarkable  manner.  Having  used  absti¬ 
nence  for  two  days  by  the  advice  of  his  physician,  for  the  cure 
of  a  trifling  indisposition  under  which  he  was  laboring,  he  had 
permission  to  return  to  his  former  diet ;  but  he  refused,  say¬ 
ing,  that  as  he  had  advanced  so  far  on  his  journey  towards 
death,  he  would  not  retreat.  He  accordingly  starved  himself 
to  death. 

Among  the  ancient  Greeks  the  utterances  of  the  Oracles  are 
said  to  have  been  the  cause  of  many  suicides.  As  is  well 
known,  the  ancient  Grecians  regarded  the  prophesies  and 
counsels  uttered  by  the  priests  who  served  at  these  shrines  as 
absolutely  infallible.  One  of  the  most  famous  was  the  Oracle 
of  the  god  Apollo  at  Delphi,  and  this  is  said  to  have  been 
especially  prolific  in  promoting  self-destruction.  Cadmus, 
King  of  Athens,  killed  himself  because  he  was  advised  by  the 
Oracle  that  his  death  would  promote  the  welfare  of  the  State. 
The  same  motive  is  said  to  have  prompted  the  suicide  of 
Lycurgus,  the  celebrated  law-giver  of  Sparta. 

On  the  ivSland  of  Leucas  or  Leucadia,  situated  in  the  Ionian 
Sea,  near  the  coast  of  Epirus,  which  in  modern  times  is  known 
as  St.  Maura,  was  a  famous  promontory  called  Leucate,  from 
which  desponding  and  disappointed  lovers  were  wont  to  cast 
themselves  into  the  sea.  This  was  the  spot,  according  to  the 
ancient  legends,  where  Sappho  destroyed  herself  in  order  to  be 
free  from  the  violent  passion  which  she  entertained  for 
Pharon.  Some  Greek  writers  have  said  that  her  suicide  orig¬ 
inated  the  custom  and  that  her  example  was  frequently  fol¬ 
lowed  by  those  who  suffered  from  unrequited  love. 

The  inhabitants  of  Central  Asia  have  never  been  greatly 
addicted  to  suicide,  the  Tartars  particularly,  having  always 
been  singularly  free  from  the  practice.  In  Persia  it  has  been 
of  rare  occurrence  from  the  earliest  times.  This  is  probably 
due  to  the  nature  of  the  religion  of  the  country,  which,  with¬ 
out  positively  prohibiting  self-destruction,  tended  to  materially 
discourage  it.  Among  all  these  peoples,  however,  suicide 


i 


5  36 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


was  permissible  under  certain  circumstances,  and  was  not 
regarded  as  especially  dishonorable. 

From  the  earliest  recorded  times,  suicide  was  practiced  in 
ancient  Egypt,  where  it  was  regarded  as  an  entirely  honor¬ 
able  mode  of  death.  Large  numbers  of  the  Egyptians  died  by 
their  own  hands,  and  about  the  beginning  of  the  Christian 
era  the  practice  seems  to  have  arrived  at  its  maximum 
growth.  Egypt  had  long  been  deteriorating,  and  had  sunk  to 
a  low  level  at  that  time.  Rameses  the  Great,  one  of  the  most 
prominent  figures  of  antiquity,  who  was  a  victorious  warrior 
while  yet  a  mere  boy,  very  deliberately  ended  his  own  life,  for 
the  reason  that  he  had  become  blind. 

Suicide  was  not  more  common  or  honorable  among  the 
Greeks  and  Romans  of  Southern  Europe  than  with  the  Norse¬ 
men,  Goths,  and  other  barbaric  peoples  of  the  northern  and 
western  portions  of  the  continent.  These  warriors,  who 
conquered  almost  the  whole  of  Western  Europe,  including 
Britain  and  Ireland,  and  even  marched  victoriously  through 
the  streets  of  the  “Eternal  City,”  above  all  the  ills  of  life, 
feared  a  peaceful  death  from  the  effects  of  old  age,  and  com¬ 
paratively  few  of  them  ever  died  in  that  way.  This  custom 
was  chargeable  to  their  religious,  or,  more  properly,  supersti¬ 
tious  faith.  According  to  their  belief  there  was  but  one  way 
to  gain  admission  to  the  presence  of  their  god,  Odin, 
within  the  sacred  precincts  of  the  Hall  of  Valhalla.  The 
significance  of  this  term  clearly  indicates  the  method  of  enter¬ 
ing  it.  The  “Hall  of  Valhalla”  means,  literally,  “the  hall  of 
those  dead  of  violence.”  Death  met  in  battle  was  the  most 
honorable  of  all,  but  those  who  took  their  own  lives  in  a 
violent  manner  were  not  excluded,  as,  however,  were  all  who 
died  a  natural  death.  In  consequence  of  this  belief,  which 
was  fixed  and  universal,  comparatively  few  succumbed  to 
death  in  the  ordinary  course  of  nature.  This  superstition  is 
largely  responsible  for  the  almost  unparalleled  bravery  of 
these  people,  most  of  whom,  particularly  when  advanced  in 
life  or  afflicted  with  a  disease  that  might  soon  prove  fatal, 
actually  courted  death.  When  such,  by  what  they  regarded  as 
a  most  unfortunate  chance,  escaped  the  death  they  coveted, 


SUICIDE 


537 


suicide  was  the  only  remaining  route  by  which  to  gain  bliss 
beyond  the  grave,  and  they  eagerly  resorted  to  it. 

In  what  marked  contrast  to  this  fear  of  dying  of  old  age  is 
the  Christian  notion!  With  the  decay  of  the  baser  passions 
and  impulses  that  too  frequently  sway  youth  and  manhood,  the 
loftier  attributes  of  the  soul  are  thrown  strongly  into  the  fore¬ 
ground,  and  the  declining  years  of  a  truly  good  man  become 
the  highest  compliment  that  can  be  paid  to  poor  human 
nature,  besides  furnishing  an  example  of  almost  priceless  value 
to  youth.  Of  all  creatures  such  a  person  should  be  the  last  to 
contemplate  suicide.  Robert  Blair,  in  his  sombre  but  beauti¬ 
ful  poem,  “The  Grave,”  thus  describes  the  last  days  of  a  truly 
good  and  pious  old  man : 

.“Thrice  welcome  death! 

That,  after  many  a  painful,  bleeding  step, 

Conducts  us  to  our  home,  and  lands  us  safe 
On  the  long  wish’d  for  shore.  Prodigious  change! 

Our  bane  turn’d  to  a  blessing!  Death,  disarm’d, 

Loses  his  fellness  quite ;  all  thanks  to  Him 
Who  scourged  the  venom  out.  Sure  the  last  end 
Of  the  good  man  is  peace !  How  calm  his  exit ! 

Night  dews  fall  not  more  gently  to  the  ground, 

Nor  weary  worn-out  winds  expire  so  soft. 

Behold  him !  in  the  evening  tide  of  life, 

A  life  well  spent,  whose  early  care  it  was 
His  riper  years  should  not  upbraid  his  green ; 

By  unperceived  degrees  he  wears  away ; 

Yet,  like  the  sun,  seems  larger  at  his  setting! 

High  in  his  faith  and  hopes,  look  how  he  reaches 
After  the  prize  in  view!  and  like  a  bird 
That’s  hamper’d,  struggles  hard  to  get  away! 

Whilst  the  glad  gates  of  sight  are  wide  expanded 
To  let  the  new  glories  in,  the  first  fair  fruits 
Of  the  fast  coming  harvest.  Then,  oh !  then 
Each  earth-born  joy  grows  vile,  or  disappears, 

Shrunk  to  a  thing  of  naught !  Oh,  how  he  longs 
To  have  his  passport  signed,  and  be  dismiss’d! 

’Tis  done — and  now  he’s  happy!  The  glad  soul 
Has  not  a  wish  uncrown’d.’’ 

Among  the  many  legends  of  the  ancient  Vikings  is  one  to 
the  effect  that  when  any  one  of  these  pirate  princes  felt  his 
end  approaching,  he  demanded  to  be  carried  upon  the  ship 


538 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


which  he  had  commanded,  that  the  vessel  be  rowed  out  into 
the  sea,  and  then  set  on  fire,  meeting  death  with  unruffled 
serenity,  believing  that  upon  this  sea  of  fire  his  soul  was 
destined  to  float  to  the  Hall  of  Valhalla.  It  is  not  surprising 
that  a  warrior,  vanquished  and  cast  to  earth,  patiently  awaited 
the  coming  of  the  foe  whose  sword  he  knew  would  dispatch 
him.  A  favorite  mode  of  suicide  among  the  Scandinavians  of 
this  early  period  was  the  leaping  from  a  rock  into  the  surging, 
boiling  caldron  of  waters  below.  This  was  ordinarily  consid¬ 
ered  a  method  of  ‘‘departure  to  Odin.  ”  Some  historians  claim 
that  this  custom  was  so  common  that  many  of  the  rocks  of 
Sweden  have  become  famous  as  points  from  which  self- 
destruction  was  perpetrated.  In  fact,  there  are  certain  crags 
in  the  Scandinavian  Peninsula  which  are  now  pointed  out  as 
the  scenes  of  self-destruction.  They  are  usually  called 
Attestupor  (stem  of  the  rock).  One  of  these  rests  upon  a 
slope  of  a  lake  in  the  interior  province.  More  frequently, 
however,  there  are  pointed  out  to  the  traveler  those  which  abut 
upon  the  sea,  from  which,  according  to  ancient  superstition, 
the  entrance  to  the  Hall  of  Odin  was  more  easy.  Travelers  in 
Sweden  and  Norway  are  always  greatly  interested  in  the  pub¬ 
lic  superstition  attaching  to  these  stones.  A  quaint  Swedish 
writer,  referring  to  the  practice  of  self-destruction  in  early 
days,  says  that  “it  is  useless  to  give  ourselves  up  to  groans 
and  complaints,  or  to  put  our  relatives  to  needless  expense, 
since  we  can  easily  follow  the  example  of  our  fathers,  who 
have  gone  by  the  way  of  the  rock.” 

All  sorts  of  traditions  cluster  around  these  spots  which  are 
pointed  out  to  travelers  by  the  Swedish  peasants.  For 
instance,  two  rocks  are  found  in  West  Forhland,  to  which  had 
been  given  the  name  Valhal,  because  at  one  time  the  populace 
of  Sweden  supposed  that  they  stood  directly  above  the 
entrance  of  Odin’s  Flail.  Another  of  these  rocks  is  known  to 
the  common  people  as  Stafva  Hill,  which  is  said  to  have  been, 
at  one  time,  the  6cene  of  numerous  suicides  by  the  followers 
and  devotees  of  Odin. 

Those  who  were  too  feeble  with  age  or  from  sickness  to 
enter  a  battle  were  often  carried,  at  their  most  urgent  request, 


SUICIDE 


539 


upon  battle-fields  and  left  there,  in  the  hope  that  a  chance  bolt 
or  blow  might  end  their  lives.  In  this  peculiar  belief  the 
men  of  the  North  bore  a  resemblance  to  the  Mohammedans, 
who,  later  on,  believed  that  death  on  the  field  of  battle  was 
the  surest  method  of  attaining  a  happy  immortality. 

With  the  spread  of  Christianity,  the  worship  of  Odin,  with 
all  the  horrible  beliefs  which  that  worship  implied,  came  to  an 
end.  The  Scandinavian  Peninsula  is  to-day  Christian  from 
one  end  to  the  other,  yet  remnants  of  the  old  belief  may  still 
be  distinguished  in  the  custom,  which  yet  prevails  in  certain 
parts  of  Sweden,  of  burying  a  warrior  attired  in  his  full 
accoutrements. 

To  a  certain  extent  the  ancient  Celts  took  a  similar  view  of 
death,  and  preferred  perishing  upon  the  battle-field  to  any 
other  mode  of  departing  this  life.  The  Celts  firmly  believed 
in  the  reality  of  a  future  life,  which  largely  accounts  for  the 
readiness  with  which  they  embraced  the  Christian  faith. 
While  by  no  means  so  frequent  as  with  the  Norsemen,  suicide 
was  not  uncommon  among  them,  particularly  in  old  age. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 


SUICIDE  —  CONTINUED 

Had  the  Christian  religion  accomplished  no  other  end  than 
the  elevation  in  the  popular  mind  of  the  value  and  the  sanctity 
of  human  life,  it  would  still  justly  be  accounted  the  greatest 
boon  ever  allotted  to  humanity.  As  appears  from  the  preced¬ 
ing  chapter,  the  world  at  the  time  the  Redeemer  was  born  was 
plunged  in  degradation,  and  human  life  was  held  at  a  low 
price.  To  people  who  contemplate  suicide  as  an  honorable 
means  of  escaping  the  trials  and  perplexities  of  life,  truly  great 
and  good  actions  are  almost  impossible  of  accomplishment. 
The  influence  of  Christianity  in  checking  suicide,  which  had 
become  a  veritable  mania  in  almost  every  civilized  country, 
was  two-fold.  It  taught  the  universal  brotherhood  of  man  and 
presented  God  in  the  guise  of  a  kind  Father,  to  whom  the 
entire  human  family  owed  obedience  and  love.  From  this 
general  proposition  followed  the  corollary,  that  man  must  not 
offend  his  Maker  by  going  unsummoned  into  His  presence, 
and,  likewise,  that  he  owes  duties  to  his  fellows  that  he  can¬ 
not,  in  good  conscience,  avoid  by  giving  up  his  life.  Its 
second  effect  in  checking  self-murder  consisted  in  the  doctrine 
that  all  are  not  equally  happy  after  death,  and  that  an  eternity 
of  bliss  can  only  be  attained  by  right  living  and  right  dying. 
Many  of  the  religious  and  philosophical  systems  of  the 
ancients  contained  admirable  precepts  and  theories,  but  they 
failed  to  give  life  the  all-important  and  sacred  place  to  which 
it  was  elevated  by  the  religion  of  Christ. 

It  has  often  been  pointed  out  that  the  founder  of  Chris¬ 
tianity  never  denounced  suicide.  The  same  may  be  said  of 
many  other  crimes  which  he  never  mentioned,  and  the 
omission  cannot  be  twisted  into  any  form  of  approval  or 

540 


S  U  I C I D  E— C  O  N  T I N  U  E  D 


54i 


excuse.  The  whole  tenor  of  his  teachings  is  opposed  to  any¬ 
thing  so  monstrous.  In  his  doctrine,  submission  to  the  will  of 
God  has  the  most  prominent  place.  Add  to  this  the  circum¬ 
stance  that  he  healed  the  sick,  and  even  recalled  to  life  some 
who  had  departed  from  this  world,  and  his  position  cannot  for 
a  moment  be  doubted. 

The  early  Fathers  of  the  Church  wrote  and  preached 
against  suicide,  yet  it  was  not  until  several  centuries  had 
elapsed  that  the  Church  did  anything  more  than  strongly 
remonstrate  against  the  practice.  Notwithstanding  this,  sui¬ 
cide  was  rare  among  the  early  Christians,  as  compared  with  the 
pagan  peoples  with  whom  they  came  in  contact.  With  the 
advent  of  persecution,  however,  it  became  much  more  com¬ 
mon.  Where  opposition  is  not  sufficiently  strong  to  crush  a 
movement  it  usually  tends  to  rapidly  develop  it.  To  suffer 
torture  and  even  death  by  reason  of  their  faith,  so  far  from 
conquering  those  zealous  disciples  of  our  Lord,  actually 
encouraged  them  and  developed  such  an  unbounded  enthu¬ 
siasm,  such  a  yearning  for  the  joys  of  the  newly  revealed 
heaven,  that  many,  so  far  from  shrinking  back  and  trying  to 
avoid  their  fate,  literally  met  death  half-way,  while  some  were 
raised  to  such  a  fervor  as  to  take  their  own  lives. 

The  suicidal  tendency  of  the  early  Christians  is  one  of  the 
darkest  clouds  upon  the  beginnings  of  the  Church,  and  yet  it 
cannot,  in  reason,  be  very  strongly  condemned.  The  faith 
was  new,  and  enthusiasm  at  a  white  heat.  The  days  of  the 

apostles,  and  even  Christ  himself,  lay  in  the  recent  past. 

% 

The  new  religion  was  such  a  radical  departure  from  any  that 
had  preceded  it  that  its  full  force  and  almost  infinite  meaning 
was  hardly  appreciated  by  those  who  received  it  with  open 
arms.  What  wonder  that  transient  life  seemed  valueless  to 
their  eyes  as  compared  with  the  eternal  bliss  of  heaven?  For 
a  long  time  the  Christian  had  no  need  to  resort  to  suicide, 
persecution  furnishing  ample  opportunity  for  all  who  wished 
to  quit  this  life,  and  forcing  thousands  to  do  so  who  were  far 
from  being  weary  of  existence.  After  a  time,  however,  per¬ 
secution  began  to  wane,  and  comparatively  few  Christians  were 
put  to  death  by  the  authorities.  Then  the  mania  for  death 


542 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


manifested  itself  in  full  force,  and  the  means  of  quitting  a  life 
that  had  become  vanity,  and  gaining  the  skies,  were  eagerly 
sought  after.  The  pagans  were  often  deliberately  incited  to 
acts  of  violence  by  the  actions  of  the  Christians  who  sought 
death.  Many  instances  are  given  by  reliable  historians  where, 
when  brought  before  the  magistrates  for  judgment,  the 
accused  begged  that  sentence  of  death  might  be  imposed  upon 
them.  Edward  Gibbon,  one  of  the  most  accurate  and  pains¬ 
taking  of  modern  historians,  in  his  “History  of  the  Decline 
and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire,”  has  this  to  say  on  the 
subject : 

“Stories  are  related  of  the  courage  of  martyrs  who  actually 
performed  what  Ignatius  had  intended;  who  exasperated  the 
fury  of  the  lions,  pressed  the  executioner  to  hasten  his  office, 
cheerfully  leaped  into  the  fires  which  were  kindled  to  consume 
them,  and  discovered  a  sensation  of  joy  and  pleasure  in  the 
midst  of  the  most  exquisite  tortures.  Several  examples  have 
been  preserved  of  a  zeal  impatient  of  those  restraints  which 
the  emperors  had  provided  for  the  security  of  the  Church. 
The  Christians  sometimes  supplied  by  their  voluntary  declara¬ 
tions  the  want  of  an  accuser,  rudely  disturbed  the  public  serv¬ 
ice  of  paganism,  and  rushing  in  crowds  around  the  tribunals, 
called  upon  them  to  pronounce  and  to  inflict  the  sentence  of 
the  law.  ’  ’ 

It  is  recorded  that,  upon  one  such  occasion,  the  pro- 
consul,  Antonius  Pius,  refused  to  grant  the  prayers  of  those 
who  were  clamoring  for  death,  saying:  “Unhappy  men, 
unhappy  men !  if  you  are  thus  weary  of  your  lives,  is  it  so 
difficult  for  you  to  find  ropes  and  precipices?” 

It  must  not  be  understood  that  this  course  was  approved  by 
all  Christians;  as  a  matter  of  fact,  it  was  strongly  opposed  by 
the  great  majority  of  those  whom  enthusiasm  had  not  deprived 
of  reason.  The  early  Church  was  broken  up  into  sects,  some 
of  which  were  denounced  as  heretical  and  whose  actions  can¬ 
not  be  charged  against  the  great  body  of  Christians.  Among 
these  were  the  Donatists,  who  sprang  into  existence  early  in 
the  fourth  century.  The  first  Council  of  Arles  (August  i,  A. 
D.  314)  decided  against  Donatus,  a  Numidian  bishop,  who  then 


SUICIDE  — CONTINUED 


543 


seceded  from  the  Catholic  Church  and  established  the  sect  that 
bore  his  name.  By  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  century,  the 
Donatists  had  become  very  powerful,  well-nigh  rivaling  the 
Catholics  in  point  of  numbers.  This  sect,  while  advocating 
many  really  admirable  doctrines,  was  absolutely  fanatical  on 
the  subject  of  suicide  as  a  means  of  attaining  speedy  transi¬ 
tion  to  heaven.  Touching  this  sect,  Gibbon  has  this  to  say: 

“Many  of  these  fanatics  were  possessed  with  a  horror  of 
life,  and  the  desire  of  martyrdom ;  and  they  deemed  it  of  little 
moment  by  what  means  or  by  what  hands  they  perished,  if 
their  conduct  was  sanctified  by  the  intention  of  devoting  them¬ 
selves  to  the  glory  of  the  true  faith  and  the  hope  of  eternal 
happiness.  Sometimes  they  rudely  disturbed  the  festivals  and 
profaned  the  temples  of  paganism,  with  the  design  of  exciting 
the  most  zealous  of  the  idolators  to  revenge  the  insulted  honor 
of  their  gods.  They  sometimes  forced  their  way  into  the 
courts  of  justice  and  compelled  the  affrighted  judge  to  give 
orders  for  their  immediate  execution.  They  frequently 
stopped  travelers  on  the  public  highways,  and  obliged  them 
to  inflict  the  stroke  of  martyrdom  by  the  promise  of  a  reward 
if  they  consented,  and  by  the  threat  of  instant  death  if  they 
refused  to  grant  so  very  singular  a  favor.  When  they  were 
disappointed  of  every  other  resource,  they  announced  the  day 
on  which,  in  the  presence  of  their  friends  and  brethren,  they 
should  cast  themselves  headlong  from  some  lofty  rock;  and 
many  precipices  were  shown  which  had  acquired  fame  by  the 
number  of  religious  suicides.  ’  ’ 

The  third  Council  of  Arles,  A.  D.  452,  condemned  suicide 
under  any  and  all  circumstances,  and  from  this  date  what  may 
be  termed  voluntary  Christian  martyrdom  began  to  decline, 
though  it  continued  among  the  Donatists  and  some  other  sects 
for  a  full  century,  and  the  denunciation  was  repeated  by  the 
Church,  over  and  over  again,  before  the  desired  end  was  fully 
accomplished.  But*  although  smothered,  the  desire  for 
martyrdom  was  not  effectually  quenched,  and  blazed  up  on 
more  than  one  occasion,  centuries  after.  Several  instances  of 
this  kind  occurred  during  the  Crusades,  and  even  at  later 
periods.  On  this  point  Dr.  J.  J.  O’Dea,  in  his  admirable 


544 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


work,  “Suicide;  Its  Philosophy,  Causes  and  Prevention,’’  has 
this  to  say : 

“At  the  battle  of  Hittin,  where  the  Latin  Empire  of  the 
East  was  broken  forever,  those  Knights  Templars  who  refused 
to  adopt  the  Moslem  faith  were  ruthlessly  slain  by  command  of 
Saladin ;  and  many  Christian  soldiers  who  thirsted  for  the  glory 
of  martyrdom,  but  were  not  of  that  order,  put  on  the  mantles 
of  the  slain  Templars,  and  went  gladly  to  their  deaths.’’ 

Many  women,  in  all  ages  of  the  world,  have  resorted  to 
suicide  to  escape  defilement.  This  was  true  of  the  Greeks  and 
Romans,  and  many  historical  instances  might  be  cited. 
Somewhat  different  was  the  case  of  Lucretia,  the  beautiful 
and  virtuous  Roman  matron,  whom  Shakespeare  made  the 
subject  of  a  powerful  poem.  After  having  been  overpowered 
and  brutally  treated  by  Tarquin  Sextus,  she  committed  suicide 
from  very  shame. 

The  early  Christian  women  frequently  resorted  to  suicide 
from  this  cause,  and  a  long  list  of  their  names  has  come  down 
to  us.  This  course  was  defended  by  many  of  the  Fathers  of 
the  Church,  among  them  such  eminent  religious  authorities  as 
St.  Ambrose,  St.  Jerome,  and  St.  Chrysostom.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  greatest,  perhaps,  of  them  all,  St.  Augustine,  held, 
and  taught  in  no  uncertain  way,  that  suicide  for  the  preserva¬ 
tion  of  chastity  was  unwarrantable  and  absolutely  sinful.  But, 
while  the  Church  strongly  combated  suicide,  as  has  been 
already  shown,  it  went  so  far  as  to  canonize  as  a  saint  Pelagia, 
who,  to  escape  her  would-be  ravishers,  threw  herself  from  a 
housetop  and  met  instant  death.  On  this  subject,  John 
Donne,  the  English  poet  and  theologian,  says: 

“The  memory  of  Pelagia  as  a  virgin  and  a  martyr  is  cele¬ 
brated  the  9th  of  June.  .  .  .  The  Church  celebrates  the 

act  as  though  it  were  glad  to  take  any  occasion  of  approving 
such  a  courage  in  such  a  cause,  which  was  the  preservation  of 
chastity.  ’  ’ 

When  Rome  fell  before  the  victorious  Northern  hordes  of 
the  Goths,  under  the  leadership  of  Alaric,  in  410,  great  num¬ 
bers  of  Christian  women  took  their  own  lives  to  escape  the 
hands  of  the  fierce  barbarians. 


SUICIDE  — CONTINUED 


545 


In  the  early  centuries  of  the  Christian  era  suicide  was  quite 
common  among  those  who  had  withdrawn  from  the  world  and 
resided  in  monasteries.  A  considerable  part  of  these  are  to 
be  charged  to  melancholy  resulting  from  seclusion  from 
friends  and  the  pleasures  of  life,  depression  of  spirits  being,  as 
is  well  understood,  one  of  the  most  fruitful  causes  of  suicide. 
In  many  instances  it  was  caused  by  long  contemplation  of  the 
lives  of  the  early  martyrs  and  the  glories  of  the  world  to 
come,  which  were  painted  in  high  colors  in  the  literature  of 
the  early  Church.  Occasionally,  even  at  the  present  day,  truly 
devout  and  good  people  take  their  own  lives  under  intense 
religious  excitement.  Modern  science,  however,  classes  such 
people  as  insane,  which,  no  doubt,  was  the  real  condition  of  a 
large  proportion  of  those  who  took  their  own  lives  in  ancient 
times. 

An  extraordinary  instance  of  suicide  as  the  result  of  a  mind 
unbalanced  through  religious  fanaticism  occurred  in  Venice, 
in  the  person  of  a  shoemaker  named  Matthew  Loval.  Labor¬ 
ing  under  a  delusion  that  he  was  fulfilling  the  commands  of 
the  Almighty,  he  determined  to  die  by  crucifixion.  For  three 
days  he  pondered  over  the  matter,  and  at  the  expiration  of  this 
period,  having  crowned  himself  with  thorns  and  stripped  him¬ 
self  of  his  clothing,  he  bound  a  handkerchief  around  his  waist 
and  climbed  upon  a  cross  'which  he  had  himself  constructed, 
placing  each  foot  upon  a  ledge  made  for  that  purpose.  He 
transfixed  his  feet  with  five  nails  five  inches  in  length,  which 
he  himself  firmly  hammered  into  the  wood.  He  then  impaled 
both  hands  upon  metal  points,  which  he  had  attached  to  the 
cross  for  that  purpose.  Before  attaching  his  left  hand,  how¬ 
ever,  he  inflicted  a  deep  wound  in  his  left  side,  it  evidently 
being  his  intention  to  emulate  the  death  of  Christ  as  com¬ 
pletely  as  he  was  able.  Having  made  all  these  preparations, 
he  contrived,  by  means  of  ropes  which  he  had  fixed  for  the  pur¬ 
pose,  to  drag  his  cross  out  of  the  window,  where  he  remained 
suspended  until  the  following  day.  When  discovered  his  right 
hand  had  become  detached  from  the  cross,  but  otherwise  he 
was  securely  fastened  to  it.  He  was  taken  down  and  carried 
to  the  hospital.  Strange  to  say,  he  recovered,  but  was  at  once 


546 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


sent  to  an  insane  asylum.  Here  he  soon  afterwards  died,  the 
primary  cause  of  his  death  being  pulmonary  consumption, 
which  was,  in  the  opinion  of  the  physicians,  aggravated  by  his 
constant  endeavors  to  fast. 

Efforts  have  been  made  in  every  nation  in  Christendom  to 
check  the  tendency  to  suicide  by  means  of  legislative  enact¬ 
ment.  During  the  reign  of  Louis  IX.  of  France  it  was  enacted 
that  the  property  of  a  suicide  should  be  confiscated  to  the  use 
of  the  State,  and  later,  in  the  seventeenth  century,  it  was 
decreed  that  the  body  of  a  self-murderer  should  be  ignomini- 
ously  dragged  at  the  cart’s  tail.  This  remained  upon  the 
statute  book  until  1789,  when  it  was  repealed  by  the  national 
assembly,  that  body  regarding  such  a  regulation  as  an  interfer¬ 
ence  with  the  right  of  individual  action. 

Mankind  is  much  given  to  imitation,  and  this  quality,  or 
trait,  has  been  responsible  for  no  end  of  suicides,  and  also  has 
largely  shaped  the  means  by  which  they  were  committed. 
One  of  the  most  remarkable  instances  of  this  kind  occurred 
among  the  women  of  Miletus,  an  ancient  and  most  flourishing 
city  of  Ionia,  in  Asia  Minor.  Large  numbers  of  the  Milesian 
women  committed  suicide  for  the  one  reason  that  their  hus¬ 
bands  and  lovers  were  detained  by  the  wars  much  longer  than 
they  had  anticipated.  This  would  seem  no  reasonable  cause 
for  suicide,  and  in  the  present  day  would  lead  to  no  such 
results.  Indeed,  it  can  be  explained  upon  no  other  hypothesis 
than  that  of  an  inability  to  resist  the  examples  that  were  so 
universally  presented.  A  constant  and  truly  devoted  woman 
would  glory  in  the  services  her  lover  or  husband  was  render¬ 
ing  her  country,  and  await  his  return  with  fidelity,  if  not  with 
patience;  while  one  of  a  frivolous  or  trifling  character  would 
seek  a  new  one.  This  outbreak,  which  proved  of  a  most 
serious  character,  was  finally  terminated  by  an  edict  that  the 
bodies  of  all  suicides  should  be  carried  naked  through  the 
streets.  In  this  instance  the  inherent  feeling  of  modesty 
proved  stronger  than  the  passion  of  mourning  love. 

A  similar  epidemic  broke  out  in  Lyons,  France,  during  the 
seventeenth  century.  In  this  instance  no  cause  whatever 
could  be  found  for  the  mania  which  swept  over  the  city,  carry- 


SUICIDE  — CONTINUED 


547 


ing  to  untimely  and  dishonorable  graves  many  of  the  fairest 
and  wealthiest  of  its  women.  The  governor  of  Lyons  broke 
up  the  practice,  much  as  it  had  been  done  in  Miletus,  by 
declaring  that  the  bodies  of  those  who  took  their  own  lives 
should  be  exposed  naked  in  the  market-place.  The  women  of 
these  cities  must  have  been  in  a  decidedly  abnormal  condition. 
The  sudden  cessation  of  the  practice  upon  the  order  exposing 
their  bodies  being  made,  is  explained  by  Dr.  S.  A.  K.  Strahan, 
in  his  recent  work  entitled  “Suicide  and  Insanity,’’  on  the 
theory  that  those  most  predisposed  to  yield  to  the  mania  had 
been  among  the  first  to  terminate  their  existence,  and  that  the 
remainder  were  more  easily  influenced  by  a  sense  of  shame. 

Even  representations  on  the  stage  have  been  known  to  lead 
to  large  numbers  of  suicides.  Legoyt  says  that  after  M.  de 
Vigny’s  drama  “Chatterton”  was  performed  in  Paris,  manyper- 
sons,  chiefly  of  a  highly  sentimental  organization,  killed  them¬ 
selves  in  imitation  of  the  death  of  the  hero.  The  name  of  this 
highly-gifted  but  most  unfortunate  young  suicide  is  entitled  to 
more  than  a  passing  notice.  He  was  born  at  Bristol,  England, 
in  1752.  On  the  opening  of  the  new  bridge  at  Bristol  in  1768, 
when  Thomas  Chatterton  was  but  sixteen  years  of  age,  he  sent 
to  a  newspaper  an  account,  written  in  antique  style,  both  as 
to  phraseology  and  spelling,  of  the  opening  of  the  old  bridge, 
several  centuries  before,  which  he  claimed  to  have  taken  from 
an  ancient  manuscript.  For  a  time  he  turned  out  poems,  and 
historical  and  biographical  sketches,  which  he  claimed  to  have 
taken  from  ancient  documents  that  had  curiously  come  into 
his  possession.  He  succeeded  in  deceiving  some  of  the  fore¬ 
most  literary  men  of  England,  among  them  Horace  Walpole. 
Chatterton  produced  an  enormous  amount  of  literary  matter 
which  was  highly  praised,  but  which  brought  him  next  to  no 
money  at  all.  Finally,  in  poverty  and  desperation,  he  com¬ 
mitted  suicide  in  1770,  before  he  had  attained  the  age  of  eight¬ 
een  years.  Chatterton  was  the  greatest  prodigy  in  the  whole 
world  of  literature.  Had  some  friend  come  to  his  assistance, 
and  prolonged  his  life,  he  would  doubtless  have  proved  him¬ 
self  the  greatest  author  that  ever  lived  upon  earth.  He  was 
never  mentally  a  child,  his  mind  having  been  developed  from 


54^ 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


his  very  cradle.  That  his  abnormal  mind  was  somewhat 
unbalanced  may  be  concluded  from  his  peculiar  methods  and 
his  suicidal  death. 

While  the  Jews,  in  their  normal  condition,  have  usually 
been  singularly  exempt  from  the  practice  of  self-destruction, 
instances  are  not  wanting  where  they  have  been  stricken  with 
suicidal  mania  and  have  taken  their  own  lives  in  large  num¬ 
bers.  During  the  tenth  and  fourteenth  centuries,  large  num¬ 
bers  of  Jews  took  their  own  lives  to  escape  cruel  persecution, 
and  how  many  have  preferred  death  to  slavery  will  never  be 
known.  On  one  occasion,  at  York,  England,  five  hundred 
committed  suicide  to  escape  the  persecution  to  which  they 
were  being  subjected.  During  the  fourteenth  century  vast 
numbers  of  them  took  their  own  lives  in  several  Rheinish 
towns,  during  the  awful  prevalence  of  the  “Black  Death.” 

Imitation  extends  often  to  the  means  employed,  and  the 
place  selected  for  the  commission  of  the  last  rash  act. 

A  monument  in  London,  erected  in  commemoration  of 
the  great  fire  of  1666,  has  been  the  scene  of  many  acts  of 
self-destruction.  At  the  time  of  its  construction  it  was  con¬ 
sidered  the  finest  isolated  column  in  the  world.  As  it  is  over 
two  hundred  feet  in  height,  and  as  the  public  were  permitted 
to  ascend  it  upon  the  payment  of  a  trivial  fee,  it  was  fre¬ 
quently  selected  as  a  vantage-point  from  which  those  contem¬ 
plating  self-murder  might  leap  with  an  assurance  of  success. 
Indeed,  the  frequency  of  such  acts  led  to  the  erection  of  a  stout 
iron  framework  around  the  outer  gallery  at  the  top  of  the 
monument,  although  the  high  staircase  is  still  a  place  well 
adapted  for  the  commission  of  suicide.  St.  Paul’s  Cathedral 
in  London  has  also  been  a  site  selected  by  self-murderers  for 
the  accomplishment  of  their  plans,  as  have  also  been  the 
towers  of  the  Crystal  Palace  at  Sydenham.  Since  the  comple¬ 
tion  of  the  great  Brooklyn  bridge,  a  large  number  of  people 
have  ended  their  lives  by  leaping  from  its  lofty  height  into 
the  river  below,  and  a  high  bridge  in  Lincoln  Park,  Chicago, 
has  attained  a  like  uncanny  reputation. 

The  following  instances  of  suicide  are  at  once  interesting 
and  instructive,  as  showing  the  small  provocation  required  to 


\ 


SUICIDE  — CONTINUED 


549 


cause  some  people  to  take  their  own  lives,  and  the  unique 
methods  adopted  by  others.  An  English  servant  girl,  who 
had  always  borne  a  good  character,  was  once  accused  of  theft. 
Thereupon  she  determined  to  kill  herself.  Repairing  to  the 
wash-room,  she  plunged  her  head  in  a  pail  of  water,  and  was 
found  dead  in  this  position.  Two  French  soldiers,  having 
resolved  to  leave  the  world,  went  to  St.  Denis,  where  they 
ordered  an  elaborate  dinner.  They  spent  the  day,  which  hap¬ 
pened  to  be  Christmas,  in  a  festive  manner,  and  then  shot 
themselves,  leaving  a  number  of  empty  bottles,  the  last  will 
and  testament  of  each,  some  letters,  a  few  coins  for  the 
waiter,  and  the  amount  of  their  bill  upon  the  table  at  which 
they  had  been  dining.  In  the  year  1834,  an  Italian  nobleman 
cast  himself  into  the  crater  of  Mt.  Vesuvius;  a  German  peas¬ 
ant  heard  of  his  death,  and,  anxious  to  emulate  his  example, 
finding  himself  without  the  means  to  travel  so  far  as  Vesuvius, 
threw  himself  into  a  smelting  furnace.  A  curious  method  of 
suicide  was  that  adopted  by  a  Frenchman,  whose  name  has  not 
come  down  to  us ;  he  attached  his  body  to  an  enormous  rocket, 
and  died  in  a  blaze  of  glory  in  mid-air.  It  is  hardly  necessary 
to  remind  the  reader  of  the  case  of  Vatel,  a  celebrated  cook, 
who  prided  himself  upon  his  skill  as  a  chef.  He  could  not 
endure  the  mortification  of  having  sent  up  dinner  without 
fish.  The  fish  not  having  arrived,  he  found  himself  reduced 
to  a  most  lamentable  extremity,  and  at  once,  perhaps  because 
he  considered  his  reputation  to  have  been  indelibly  stained, 
plunged  a  sword  through  his  heart. 

“Suicide  Clubs”  are  by  no  means  uncommon,  a  number 
having  been  discovered  and  “written  up”  in  the  newspapers 
during  recent  years.  Such  a  thing  seems  to  involve  an 
absurdity  and  makes  a  strong  demand  upon  human  credulity 
to  believe  it  true ;  yet  there  is  no  doubt  as  to  the  reality  of 
such  organizations.  Dr.  Schlegel,  a  German  writer,  is 
authority  for  the  statement  that  some  years  ago  there  existed 
in  Paris  a  society  calling  themselves  “Friends  of  Suicide,”  and 
had  a  membership  of  twelve.  Each  member  was  required  to 
prove  that  he  was  a  man  of  honor,  and  that  he  had  suffered 
some  injustice  at  the  hands  of  another,  before  he  was  eligible 


55° 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


for  admission  to  the  select  band.  The  ingratitude  of  a  friend, 
the  faithlessness  of  a  mistress,  the  infidelity  of  a  wife ;  these, 
and  multitudes  of  other  troubles,  were  regarded  as  of  sufficient 
gravity  to  be  so  ranked.  Each  year  a  lot  was  cast  to  decide 
which  of  the  members  should  commit  suicide  in  the  presence 
of  his  colleagues.  So  intense  was  the  disgust  and  indignation 
of  Dr.  Schlegel  at  the  toleration  of  such  practices  in  Paris,  that 
he  called  the  French  metropolis  “a  suffocating,  boiling  caldron 
which,  like  the  stew  of  Macbeth’s  witches,  simmered  with  a 
modicum  of  virtue,  all  kinds  of  passions,  vices  and  crimes.” 

“Two  clubs  of  this  kind  have  come  to  light  within  the  past 
year,”  said  Strahan,  writing  in  1893.  “In  the  early  months  of 
1892  five  cadets  of  the  Roumanian  Military  School  at  Crajova, 
committed  suicide  by  shooting  themselves  with  revolvers,  and 
an  official  inquiry  was  held  with  a  view  of  discovering  the 
cause  of  such  fatality.  It  was  then  found  that  there  existed  a 
‘suicide  club’  of  nineteen  members;  that  the  five  cadets  who 
killed  themselves  had  been  members  of  the  club,  and  had  shot 
themselves  in  accordance  with  the  rules  of  their  society.  It 
appeared  that  the  members  were  bound  by  a  fearful  oath  to 
obey  the  rules  of  the  society,  one  of  which  was  that  every 
member,  on  his  name  being  drawn  by  lot,  must  immediately 
kill  himself.  No  reason  for  the  existence  of  this  extraordinary 
society  was  discovered;  nor  could  any  of  the  members  give 
any  explanation,  reasonable  or  otherwise,  why  he  joined  in 
such  a  conspiracy. 

“In  October,  1892,  in  New  York,  J.  B.  Morehead,  a  wealthy 
theatrical  manager,  shot  himself,  leaving  a  letter  addressed  to 
the  coroner,  which  ran  thus:  ‘Dear  Sir:  I  have  committed  sui¬ 
cide  as  per  club.  Please  give  verdict  to  such  effect  and  oblige 

- ’  At  the  inquest  evidence  was  given  that  the  deceased 

belonged  to  a  club,  each  member  of  which  on  joining  had  to 
fix  a  date  for  his  own  death,  and  was  bound  by  oath  to  kill 
himself  when  that  date  came.  The  witness  who  gave  this  evi¬ 
dence  upon  oath  at  the  inquiry,  said  he  himself  was  a  member 
of  the  club,  but  declined  to  give  the  date  he  had  appointed  for 
his  own  death.  ” 

From  the  earliest  times  it  has  been  almost  universally  held 


SUICIDE  — CONTINUED 


55i 


that  “self-preservation  is  the  first  law  of  nature,”  and  beyond 
a  doubt  the  saying  is  founded  upon  substantial  truth.  “Skin 
for  skin,  all  that  a  man  hath  will  he  give  for  his  life,”  is  the 
Scriptural  form  of  expressing  the  same  idea.  The  mainte¬ 
nance  of  human  life  upon  the  earth  depends  upon  this  deep- 
seated  abhorrence  of  death,  and  also  upon  the  existence  of  the 
procreative  instinct.  Without  the  latter  the  race  would  fail 
for  lack  of  new  recruits,  while  the  absence  of  the  former  would 
so  multiply  suicide  as  to  shortly  depopulate  the  world. 

That  the  love  of  life  is  a  divinely  implanted  instinct,  or 
active  principle  of  the  human  mind,  is  proven  by  its  univer¬ 
sality.  All  animal  life  is  similarly  endowed,  and  all  creatures 
struggle  for  a  continuance  of  existence.  More  than  that,  the 
same  instinct,  or  rather  a  modified  form  of  it,  seems  to  per¬ 
vade  vegetable  life.  A  tree  or  plant  that  under  a  normal  con¬ 
dition  does  not  send  its  roots  far  into  the  earth,  in  times  of 
drouth  will  penetrate  to  unusual  depths  in  search  of  needed 
moisture.  A  score  of  illustrations  might  be  given,  but  one 
will  suffice. 

In  the  savage  man  this  instinct  is  particularly  strong,  and 
among  the  lowest  and  rudest  peoples  of  the  world  suicide  has 
always  been  very  unusual,  nothing,  as  a  rule,  driving  them  to 
it,  except  starvation.  The  reason  for  this  is  plain.  Possessed 
only  of  those  desires  and  passions  that  can  be  easily  gratified, 
the  savage  is  not  subject  to  those  disappointments  that,  in  the 
civilized  man,  produce  melancholy,  discouragement  and  dis¬ 
gust  of  life.  Again,  his  simple  food  and  almost  total  lack  of 
“civilized  dissipation”  peculiarly  exempt  him  from  both 
physical  and  mental  disease.  In  brief,  he  occupies  a  plane  so 
near  that  of  the  lower  animals  that  he  is  governed  by  instincts, 
or  intuitions,  similar  to  theirs,  and  naturally  follows  much 
the  same  course ;  living  only  in  and  for  the  pleasures  of  the 
present,  and  taking  little  care  of  the  future. 

By  an  arrangement  of  nature,  which  goes  far  towards 
demonstrating  the  goodness  as  well  as  the  wisdom  of  God,  the 
love  of  life,  strong  in  youth  and  manhood,  commences  to 
decline  as  the  body  begins  to  lose  its  vitality  and  activity. 
Were  it  otherwise,  the  last  days  of  a  good  man,  instead  of 


552 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


being  peaceful  and  full  of  hope  and  expectation  for  the  life  to 
come,  as  beautifully  expressed  by  Blair,  in  the  passage  quoted 
in  the  preceding  chapter,  would  be  tormented  with  regrets, 
anxieties  and  terrors.  Although  the  love  of  life  is  at  a  low 
ebb  after  a  man  has  passed  his  seventy-fifth  birthday,  suicides 
among  men  of  that  advanced  age  are  much  less  frequent  than 
with  those  who  are  from  ten  to  twenty  years  younger.  This 
is  explained  on  the  theory  that  the  greater  portion  of  those 
naturally  disposed  to  suicide  have  yielded  to  the  impulse 
earlier  in  life ;  have  become  demented  and  are  taken  care  of 
on  that  account,  or  have  reached,  after  life’s  tempestuous 
voyage,  a  calm  and  open  sea  of  contentment  and  hope. 

In  the  very  young  the  desire  to  live  is  not  particularly 
strong,  but  increases  with  age.  This  may  be  charged  to  a 
lack  of  experience  and  appreciation  of  what  life  really  means. 
Suicide  among  children  is  not  uncommon.  Instances  are 
recorded  where  the  subject  was  less  than  five  years  old,  but 
these  were  very  rare ;  from  five  to  ten  they  are  more  frequent, 
and  seem  to  be  increasing  during  recent  }years.  From  fifteen 
to  twenty  the  percentage  is  quite  large,  many  youths  taking 
their  own  lives  from  seemingly  trivial  causes;  as  a  reprimand, 
a  whipping,  a  failure  to  pass  an  examination,  and  the  like. 

Notwithstanding  the  deep-seated  love  of  life,  there  is  such 
a  thing  as  a  suicidal  impulse,  which  may  originate  from  the 
same  principle  in  the  human  mind  that  underlies  the  homi¬ 
cidal  impulse,  that  has  been  discussed  elsewhere  in  the  present 
volume.  This  impulse  is  usually  divided  into  two  varieties,  or 
forms:  the  instantaneous  suicidal  impulse,  where  one  is  seized 
with  a  sudden  and  frequently  uncontrollable  desire  to  take  his 
own  life,  and  the  gradually  developing  impulse  to  do  the  same 
thing,  which  is  slight  at  first  and  increases  with  time. 

The  first  variety  is  comparatively  common,  large  numbers 
annually  falling  victims  to  its  increasing  demands.  As  a  rule, 
it  comes  upon  one  like  a  flash,  and  impels  him  to  terminate  his 
existence,  often  mechanically,  without  the  subject  fully  realiz¬ 
ing  what  he  is  doing.  Usually  the  insane  possession  passes 
away  in  a  short  time.  Strahan  instances  the  case  of  Sir  Sam¬ 
uel  Romilly,  who  so  injured  himself,  while  laboring  under  the 


SUICIDE  — CONTINUED 


553 


effect  of  this  dark  impulse,  that  he  died  in  a  few  minutes. 
When  discovered,  he  was  entirely  rational,  and  was  making 
desperate  efforts  to  save  his  life  by  staying  the  flow  of  blood. 
Many  similar  instances  are  recorded.  The  finding  of  coroners’ 
juries  in  such  cases  is  almost  invariably  “Suicide  during 
temporary  insanity, ’’  and  such  findings  are  doubtless  generally 
correct,  although  the  same  verdict  is  charitably  returned  in  no 
end  of  instances  where  there  is  not  the  slightest  evidence  of 
insanity.  In  cases  of  this  kind,  where  the  ancestry  of  the 
subject  can  be  traced,  insanity  is  usually  found  in  his  family; 
indeed,  it  often  develops  that  several  of  its  members  have 
taken  their  own  lives  under  similar  conditions. 

To  the  gradually  growing  impulse  to  take  one’s  own  life,  a 
very  large  proportion  of  modern  suicides  must  be  assigned. 
This  impulse  takes  the  form  of  an  absolute  yearning  for  death, 
thus,  seemingly,  reversing  the  normal  workings  of  the  mind. 

That  such  cases  are  usually  the  result  of  abnormal  condi¬ 
tions  cannot  be  doubted,  although  it  is  very  far  from  being 
true  that  all,  or  perhaps  a  very  large  proportion  of  them,  are 
due  to  what  can  justly  be  called  insanity.  Paradoxical  as  it 
appears,  there  can  be  no  doubt  but  that  many  suicides  of  this 
class,  where  no  reasonable  motive  can  be  discovered,  take  their 
own  lives  because  the  idea  of  death  is  positively  pleasurable 
to  them.  Members  of  suicide  clubs  are  doubtless  victims  of 
this  form  of  mania,  and  derive  from  the  contemplation  of 
death,  and  its  actual  accomplishment  as  well,  a  certain  pleasure ; 
unnatural  and  hideous,  it  is  true,  but  none  the  less  pleasure. 
This  theory,  which  seems  clearly  established,  accounts  for  a 
large  class  of  suicides  that  otherwise  would  be  entirely  inex- 
plainable. 

Modern  philosophers  who  have  given  much  time  and 
thought  to  an  investigation  of  the  nature  of  suicide,  divide  it 
into  two  classes,  rational  and  irrational.  Rational  suicide  may 
be  defined  as  the  taking  of  one’s  own  life  deliberately  because, 
for  some  reason,  the  subject,  a  rational  being,  prefers  death 
to  life.  To  this  class  must  be  assigned  the  greater  portion  of 
all  the  suicides  of  ancient  times.  This  is  particularly  true  of 
the  Brahmins  and  the  Buddhists  who,  as  has  been  pointed  out, 


554 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


prefer  death  to  life  from  a  religious  or  superstitious  belief. 
In  their  cases  there  is  an  absence  of  insanity,  unless  we  are  to 
adopt  the  views  of  those  who  maintain  that  the  taking  of  one’s 
own  life  is,  in  itself,  a  certain  indication  of  a  diseased  mind. 
These  people  die  that  they  may  gain  by  the  act,  and  their 
motives  appear  no  more  irrational  than  if  they  were  to  desire 
to  live  for  the  same  reason.  To  their  eyes,  it  is  the  best 
course  they  can  pursue  to  insure  their  own  well-being. 

Most  of  the  instances  of  self-destruction  among  the  ancient 
Greeks  and  Romans  were  of  the  rational  character,  and  were 
committed  with  the  greatest  possible  deliberation.  In  their 
cases  the  motive  was  not  to  secure  a  benefit,  but  to  avoid  an 
evil  that  appeared  greater  than  death.  The  virgin  martyrs  of 
the  early  Church  fall  under  the  same  category,  while  the  sui¬ 
cides  of  those  Christians  who  were  laboring  under  almost 
overpowering  excitement,  are  classed  with  those  of  the  Bud¬ 
dhists  and  Brahmins.  This  form  of  suicide  is  "much  less  com¬ 
mon  than  it  was  in  remote  ages.  The  institution  and  growth 
of  Christianity  has  had  much  to  do  with  the  accomplishment 
of  this  end,  as  also  has  the  wonderful  advancement  in  medical 
science,  which,  in  recent  times,  has  largely  reduced  the  list  of 
so-called  incurable  diseases  and  rendered  others  far  less 
painful. 

The  irrational  suicide  is  one  who  seeks  death  for  the  sake 
of  dying,  and  without  either  expecting  to  better  his  condition 
or  escape  overwhelming  ills  of  life.  In  this  category  must  be 
placed  all  who  kill  themselves  while  insane,  or  who  do  so  with¬ 
out  any  reasonable  cause,  also  those  who  yield  to  the  suicidal 
impulse,  whether  it  be  instantaneous  or  of  gradual  develop¬ 
ment.  That  some  people,  entirely  sane,  commit  suicide  with¬ 
out  what  may  be  termed  reasonable  cause,  is  undoubted,  yet 
the  great  majority  of  this  class  of  suicides  are  possessed  of 
clouded  minds,  as  is  shown  from  the  statistics  of  various  coun¬ 
tries. 

In  the  whole  realm  of  fiction,  probably  the  greatest  literary 
problem  that  has  puzzled  scholars  is  whether  or  not  Shakes¬ 
peare  designed  to  portray  in  his  Hamlet  an  insane  man  or  one 
merely  irresolute  and  wavering.  Many  critics  have  indicated 


SUICIDE  — CONTINUED 


555 


his  famous  soliloquy  on  death  as  showing  that  he  actively  con¬ 
templated  suicide,  and  was,  hence,  mentally  unbalanced.  In 
the  estimation  of  the  author,  this  wonderful  soliloquy  shows  a 
clear  brain,  capable  of  the  keenest  and  most  accurate  analysis 
of  motives  and  consequences.  This  is  particularly  true  of  the 
concluding  lines: 

“For  who  would  bear  the  whips  and  scorns  of  time, 

The  oppressor’s  wrong,  the  proud  man’s  contumely. 

The  pangs  of  desprized  love,  the  law’s  delay, 

The  insolence  of  office  and  the  spurns 
That  patient  merit  of  the  unworthy  takes, 

When  he  himself  might  his  quietus  make 
With  a  bare  bodkin?  Who  would  fardels  bear 
To  grunt  and  sweat  under  a  weary  life, 

But  that  the  thought  of  something  after  death, 

That  undiscovered  country  from  whose  bourne 
No  traveler  returns,  puzzles  the  will 
And  makes  us  rather  bear  those  ills  we  have 
Than  fly  to  others  that  we  know  not  of? 

Thus  conscience  doth  make  cowards  of  us  all, 

And  thus  the  native  hue  of  resolution  is  sicklied  o’er 
With  the  pale  cast  of  thought,  and  enterprises 
Of  great  pith  and  moment,  with  this  regard, 

Their  currents  turn  awry,  and  lose  the  name  of  action.” 

In  remote  times  no  indignity  was  offered  to  the  body  of 
one  who  had  died  by  his  own  hand.  Even  the  Jews  made  no 
distinction  in  such  a  case,  as  appears  from  the  circumstance 
that  Ahithophel,  mentioned  in  the  preceding  chapter,  who 
deliberately  killed  himself,  “after  setting  his  house  in  order,” 
was  “buried  in  his  father’s  grave,”  the  most  honorable  disposi¬ 
tion  that  could  be  made  of  the  remains  of  a  Jew.  Among 
Asiatic  peoples  the  question  does  not  appear  to  have  been 
often  raised,  and  the  Greeks  and  Romans  did  not  generally 
offer  indignities  to  the  bodies  of  suicides,  except  as  a  means  of 
stopping  a  mania  for  its  commission.  In  the  tenth  century 
suicide  was  made  a  crime  in  England,  and  three  hundred  years 
later  the  same  course  was  taken  in  France.  This  meant  a  for¬ 
feiture  of  the  estates  of  suicides,  and,  no  doubt,  had  some 
effect  in  suppressing  it.  In  both  France  and  England  the  old 


556 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


Roman  system  was  followed,  and  the  law  did  not  apply  to 
those  who  were  driven  to  the  act  through  insanity. 

In  many  countries  it  was  for  centuries  the  custom  to  drag 
the  body  face  downward  to  the  place  appointed  for  public 
executions,  and  hang  it  head  downward  upon  the  gallows, 
after  a  time  throwing  it  into  a  convenient  ditch.  This  was 
long  the  practice  in  most  of  the  countries  of  Europe,  and  was 
done  in  Paris  as  recently  as  1749.  These  inhuman  and  bar¬ 
barous  proceedings  were  early  abandoned  in  England,  though 
followed  by  others  scarcely  less  revolting.  The  body  of  a 
suicide  was  buried  at  the  cross-roads,  a  stake  being  driven 
through  it,  for  the  purpose  of  “laying”  the  ghost  of  the 
departed,  thus  preventing  its  annoying  the  neighborhood. 
The  last  instance  of  a  burial  of  this  kind  in  England  occurred 
in  1823.  From  that  time  until  1882  bodies  of  suicides  could  be 
buried  in  churchyards,  without  religious  ceremonies,  between 
the  hours  of  nine  and  twelve  at  night.  At  present  there  are 
no  restrictions  in  England,  nor  are  there  any  penalties  pro¬ 
vided  in  the  United  States. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 


CAPITAL  PUNISHMENT 

“Whoso  sheddeth  man’s  blood,  by  man  shall  his  blood  be 
shed.  ’’ 

Few  biblical  texts  have  excited  comment  and  aroused  bitter 
controversy  to  compare  with  the  one  above  quoted.  A  dictum 
of  the  Almighty,  its  wisdom  and  justice  has  none  the  less  been 
assailed  in  all  ages.  So  general  is  the  prejudice  against  cap¬ 
ital  punishment  in  this  country  that  one  of  the  first  questions 
asked  a  talesman  offered  as  a  juror  in  a  murder  trial,  is 
whether  or  not  he  is  opposed  to  the  infliction  of  the  death 
penalty.  On  this  question  many  good  and  learned  men  have 
conscientiously  differed,  but  the  weight  of  opinion  is  clearly  in 
favor  of  imposing  the  death  penalty  as  a  means  of  suppressing 
murder  and  other  outrageous  crimes. 

Death  has  been  the  penalty  awarded  murder  from  the 
earliest  ages.  The  first  murder  was  not  punished  capitally, 
but  the  perpetrator,  Cain,  was  condemned  to  till  the  soil  with 
poor  results,  and  to  become  a  fugitive  and  a  vagabond  in  the 
earth.  Cain  objected  that  his  punishment  was  greater  than 
he  could  bear,  and  suggested  that,  on  account  of  his  murderous 
act,  he  was  certain  to  meet  With  death,  thus  showing  that  the 
idea  of  capital  punishment  had  thus  early  gained  a  footing  in 
the  world.  But  the  principle  is  more  clearly  announced  in 
the  succeeding  verse,  Genesis  iv.  15 — “And  the  Lord  said  unto 
him,  Therefore  whosoever  slayeth  Cain,  vengeance  shall  be 
taken  upon  him  sevenfold.  And  the  Lord  set  a  mark  upon 
Cain,  lest  any  finding  him  should  kill  him.  ’’  A  further  evidence 
is  furnished  by  the  establishment  of  “cities  of  refuge”  designed 
to  protect  murderers  from  vengeance. 

Life  has  almost  universally  been  regarded  as  man’s  dearest 

557 


553 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


possession ;  the  exception  being  found  among  the  Buddhists, 
Brahmins  and  some  other  sects,  who  are  often  glad  to  give  up 
earthly  existence.  Logically,  the  penalty  most  likely  to  deter 
men  from  murder  and  other  heinous  crimes  is  death.  Some 
philosophers  have  declared  against  this  course,  claiming  that 
man  has  no  right  to  take  human  life,  while  admitting  that  he 
possessed  the  right,  under  certain  conditions,  to  deprive  him 
of  his  liberty  as  long  as  he  may  live,  which,  according  to  some 
of  them,  is  a  heavier  punishment  than  death  itself.  That  the 
extreme  penalty  has  had  a  marked  effect  in  checking  murder 
cannot  be  doubted  by  any  one  who  investigates  the  subject; 
and,  since  prevention  of  crime  is  the  true  end  of  punishment, 
this  conclusion  furnishes  a  most  logical  reason  for  the  death 
penalty. 

Among  the  ancient  Jews  the  usual  mode  of  execution 
appears  to  have  been  stoning  to  death,  and  this  was  meted  out 
to  a  large  class  of  offenders  whose  crimes  were  much  less 
than  murder.  Thus  we  read  in  Leviticus  xx.  27,  “A  man  also 
or  a  woman  that  hath  a  familiar  spirit,  or  that  is  a  wizard, 
shall  surely  be  put  to  death ;  they  shall  stone  them  with  stones ; 
their  blood  shall  be  upon  them.”  With  the  Hindoos,  Chinese 
and  most  other  peoples  of  the  East,  decapitation  by  the  axe  or 
sword  is  the  usual  method  pursued.  The  Greeks  and  Romans 
employed  a  variety  of  means  to  execute  criminals  and  others 
whose  death  was  desired.  Poisoning  was  often  resorted  to, 
and  in  this  way  died  some  of  the  most  famous  men  of  antiq¬ 
uity,  notably  Socrates. 

The  ancient  Romans  had  a  way  of  combining  business  with 
pleasure,  and  condemned  people  were  often  thrown  to  lions  in 
the  amphitheatre,  to  the  unbounded  delight  of  vast  concourses 
of  people.  Crucifixion  was  another  means  quite  generally 
employed,  as  also  was  boiling  in  oil.  Beheading  was,  how¬ 
ever,  recognized  as  the  most  honorable  mode  of  suffering 
death. 

Drowning  was  resorted  to  in  very  remote  ages,  by  almost 
all  nations,  and  has  only  recently  been  discontinued  in  Europe. 
Four  and  a  half  centuries  before  the  beginning  of  the  Chris¬ 
tian  era  the  Britons  inflicted  death  by  drowning  in  a  quagmire. 


•« 


CAPITAL  PUNISHMENT  559 

In  the  Anglo-Saxon  times,  women  who  were  convicted  of  theft 
were  put  to  death  by  drowning.  Richard  Coeur  de  Lion 
decreed  that  any  soldier  of  his  who  killed  a  fellow-crusader 
during  the  passage  to  the  Holy  Land,  should  be  drowned.  In 
England  this  mode  of  execution  was  discontinued  about  the 
beginning  of  the  seventeenth  century.  “On  the  nth  day  of 
May,  1685,“  says  William  Andrews  in  his  very  valuable  work, 
“Old-Time  Punishments,’’  “Margaret  McLaughlin,  aged 
sixty-three  years,  and  Margaret  Wilson,  a  girl  of  eighteen 
years,  were  drowned  in  the  waters  of  the  Blendoch,  for  deny¬ 
ing  that  James  VII.  of  Scotland  was  entitled  to  rule  the 
Church  according  to  his  pleasure.  Bearing  on  this  subject 
there  is  an  important  statement  in  ‘Boys’  History  of  Sand¬ 
wich.’  It  is  recorded  that  in  the  year  1313,  a  presentment 
was  made  before  the  itinerant  Justices  at  Canterbury  that  the 
Prior  of  Christ’s  Church  had  for  nine  years  obstructed  the  high 
road  leading  from  Dover  Castle  to  Sandwich  by  the  seashore, 
by  a  water-mill,  and  the  diversion  of  a  stream  called  the 
Gestlyng,  where  felons  condemned  to  death  within  the  hun¬ 
dred  should  be  drowned,  but  could  not  be  executed  that,  way 
for  want  of  water.  Further,  that  he  raised  a  certain  gutter 
four  feet,  and  the  water  that  passed  that  way  to  the  gutter  ran 
to  the  place  where  convicts  were  drowned,  and  from  whence 
their  bodies  were  floated  to  the  river;  and  that  after  the 
gutter  was  raised  the  drowned  bodies  could  not  be  carried  into 
the  river  by  the  stream,  as  they  used  to  be,  for  want  of  water.’’ 

Burning  to  death  as  a  mode  of  punishment  appears  so 
revolting  and  inhuman  that  we  can  hardly  conceive  of  the 
possibility  of  its  having  been  generally  practiced  by  Christian 
nations,  and  its  abolition  within  recent  times  furnishes  one  of 
the  strongest  arguments  in  favor  of  the  theory  that  the  world 
is  growing  better.  For  centuries,  throughout  almost  the 
entire  of  Europe,  it  was  the  usual  punishment  for  witchcraft, 
and  for  all  forms  of  religious  offenses  as  well.  The  first  to 
suffer  in  this  way  in  England  was  Alban,  who  was  burned  at 
the  stake  for  heresy  in  the  year  A.  D.  304.  Since  that  day 
literally  thousands  of  unfortunates  have  given  up  the  ghost  in 
the  midst  of  fierce  flames  in  England,  as  well  as  elsewhere  in 


56° 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


Europe.  By  a  singular  process  of  reasoning,  burning  at  the 
stake  of  women  convicted  of  civil  offenses  was  regarded  as  in 
the  nature  of  a  mitigation  of  hanging.  On  this  point  Sir  Wil¬ 
liam  Blackstone,  one  of  the  greatest  commentators  on  the 
Common  Law  of  England,  has  this  to  say:  “For  as  the 
decency  due  to  the  sex  forbids  the  exposing  and  publicly 
mangling  their  bodies,  their  sentence — which  is  to  be  full  as 
terrible  to  sensation  as  the  other — is,  to  be  drawn  to  the  gal¬ 
lows,  and  there  to  be  burnt  alive;”  and  he  adds,  “The 
humanity  of  the  English  nation  has  authorized,  by  a  tacit 
consent,  an  almost  general  mitigation  of  such  part  of  these 
judgments  as  savors  of  torture  and  cruelty,  a  sledge  or 
hurdle  being  usually  allowed  to  such  traitors  as  are  con¬ 
demned  to  be  drawn,  and  there  being  few  instances — and 
those  accidental  and  by  negligence  —  of  any  person  being 
disemboweled  or  burnt  till  previously  deprived  of  sensation 
by  strangling.  ’  ’ 

Burning  at  the  stake  has  been  much  more  common  than 
most  people  suppose.  In  Germany  alone,  during  a  single  cen¬ 
tury,  as  many  as  an  hundred  thousand  people,  for  the  most 
part  decrepit,  almost  imbecile,  old  women  were  burned  alive 
for  witchcraft. 

Revolting  and  cruel  as  such  executions  were,  a  single 
instance  may  still  be  cited  as  illustrating  the  remarkable 
advance  that  humanity  has  made  within  a  comparatively  few 
years.  This  burning  occurred  at  Lincoln,  England.  “Eleanor 
Elsom, ”  says  Andrews,  “was  condemned  to  death  for  the 
murder  of  her  husband,  and  was  ordered  to  be  burnt  at  the 
stake.  She  was  dressed  in  a  cloth  ‘made  like  a  shift,’  satu¬ 
rated  with  tar,  and  her  limbs  were  also  smeared  with  the  same 
inflammable  substance,  while  a  tarred  bonnet  had  been  placed 
on  her  head.  She  was  brought  out  of  the  prison  barefoot, 
and,  being  put  on  a  hurdle,  was  drawn  on  a  sledge  to  the  place 
of  execution  near  the  gallows.  Upon  arrival,  some  time  was 
passed  in  prayer,  after  which  the  executioner  placed  her  on  a 
tar  barrel,  a  height  of  three  feet  against  the  stake.  A  rope  ran 
through  a  pulley  in  the  stake,  and  was  placed  around  her 
neck,  she  herself  fixing  it  with  her  hands.  Three  irons  also 


CAPITAL  PUNISHMENT 


561 


held  her  body  to  the  stake,  and  the  rope  being  pulled  tight, 
the  tar  barrel  was  taken  aside  and  the  fire  lighted.  The 
account  in  the  ‘Lincoln  Date  Book’  states  that  she  was  prob¬ 
ably  quite  dead  before  the  fire  reached  her,  as  the  executioner 
pulled  upon  the  rope  several  times  while  the  irons  were  being 
fixed.  The  body  was  seen  amid  the  flames  for  nearly  half  an 
hour,  though,  through  the  dryness  of  the  wood  and  the 
quantity  of  tar,  the  fire  was  exceedingly  fierce.” 

The  last  instance  of  burning  in  England  occurred  March 
18,  1789,  when  a  woman  named  Christian  Murphy,  alias  Bow¬ 
man,  was  burned  for  coining.  Shortly  after  this,  the  bar¬ 
barous  law  was  repealed,  and  an  enactment  made  which 
provided  that,  after  June  5,  1790,  women  were  to  suffer  death 
by  hanging,  as  in  the  case  of  men.  Burning  at  the  stake 
was  never  legally  practiced  in  the  United  States. 

Boiling  to  death  was  inflicted  upon  criminals  in  Europe 
several  hundred  years  ago,  but  was  never  nearly  so  common 
as  burning.  In  England  an  act  was  passed  in  1531  providing 
this  punishment  for  poisoners,  but  it  had  been  resorted  to  long 
before  this  time,  both  in  England  and  upon  the  Continent. 
Many  instances  might  be  cited  of  the  infliction  of  this  dreadful 
punishment  in  England. 

Of  all  the  atrocious  and  cruel  punishments  devised  by  the 
infernal  ingenuity  of  man,  that  of  pressing  to  death  nay  be 
regarded  as  the  most  cruel;  its  legal  name,  “Peine  forte  et 
dure,”  signifying  “strong  and  hard  pain.”  This  punishment 
was  meted  out  to  those  who,  on  being  arraigned  for  felony, 
refused  to  plead  to  the  indictment,  or  “stood  mute,”  as  it  was 
termed.  Under  the  ancient  Common  Law  o*  England  one 
could  not  be  tried  for  a  felony  until  he  had  pleaded,  and  press¬ 
ing  was  resorted  to  to  force  the  prisoner  at  the  bar  to  answer 
“guilty”  or  “not  guilty.”  The  reason  for  standing  mute  is 
found  in  the  circumstance  that  attainder  and  confiscation  of 
estates  to  the  Crown  followed  a  conviction  of  felony,  while  it 
did  not  apply  to  those  who  were  pressed  to  death.  Many  men 
suffered  this  lingering  and  agonizing  death  that  they  might 
preserve  their  property  for  their  families.  For  a  prisoner  to 
peremptorily  challenge  more  than  twenty  jurors  was  consid- 


I 


AGES 


562  MURDER  IN  ALL 

ered  equivalent  to  standing  mute,  and  was  punished  in  the 
same  manner. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  century,  this  punishment 
seems  to  have  consisted  only  in  severe  imprisonment  with  a 
very  low  diet,  persisted  in  until  the  obstinacy  of  the  accused 
was  overcome  and  he  consented  to  plead.  But  during  the 
reign  of  Henry  IV.  it  became  the  practice  to  load  heavy 
weights  upon  the  body  of  the  offender,  and  thus  literally  press 
him  to  death.  The  following  was  the  method  provided  by 
the  law : 

“That  the  prisoner  shall  be  remanded  to  the  place  from 
whence  he  came,  and  put  in  some  low,  dark  room,  and  there 
laid  on  his  back,  without  any  manner  of  covering  except  a 
cloth  round  his  middle ;  and  that  as  many  weights  shall  be  laid 
upon  him  as  he  can  bear,  and  more ;  and  that  he  shall  have  no 
more  sustenance  but  of  the  worst  bread  and  water,  and  that  he 
shall  not  eat  the  same  day  on  which  he  drinks,  nor  drink  on  the 
same  day  on  which  he  eats,  and  he  shall  so  continue  till  he 
die.”  At  a  later  period,  the  form  of  sentence  was  altered  to 
the  following:  “That  the  prisoner  shall  be  remanded  to  the 
place  from  whence  he  came,  and  put  in  some  low,  dark  room, 
that  he  shall  lie  without  any  litter  or  anything  under  him,  and 
that  one  arm  shall  be  drawn  to  one  quarter  of  the  room  with  a 
cord,  and  the  other  to  another,  and  that  his  feet  shall  be  used 
in  the  same  manner,  and  that  as  many  weights  shall  be  laid 
upon  him  as  he  can  bear,  and  more.  That  he  shall  have  three 
morsels  of  barley  bread  a  day,  and  that  he  shall  have  the 
water  next  the  prison  so  that  it  shall  be  not  current,  and  that 
he  shall  not  eat,  etc.” 

When  the  practice  of  pressing  had  become  well-nigh 
extinct,  those  who  declined  to  plead  were  tortured  by  twisting 
and  screwing  their  thumbs  with  whip-cords  until  they  yielded, 
or  died  under  the  torture.  Sometimes  both  methods  were  em¬ 
ployed  in  succession,  and  occasionally  the  two  at  the  same  time 

Thomas  Spigot,  a  highwayman,  was  both  pressed  and 
twisted  with  cords  in  1721,  and  the  Nottingham  Mercury ,  of 
January  19  of  that  year,  contained  the  following  account  of  the 
transaction : 


CAPITAL  PUNISHMENT 


563 


“Yesterday  the  Sessions  began  at  the  Old  Bailey,  where 
several  persons  were  brought  to  the  bar  for  the  highway,  etc. 
Among  them  were  the  highwaymen  lately  taken  at  Westmin¬ 
ster,  two  of  whom,  namely,  Thomas  Green,  alias  Phillips,  and 
Thomas  Spigot,  refusing  to  plead,  the  court  proceeded  to  pass 
the  following  sentence  upon  them:  ‘That  the  prisoner  shall 
be,’  etc.,  as  already  quoted.  The  former,  on  sight  of  the 
terrible  machine,  desired  to  be  carried  back  to  the  sessions 
house,  where  he  pleaded  not  guilty.  But  the  other,  who 
behaved  himself  very  insolently  to  the  ordinary  who  was 
ordered  to  attend  him,  seemingly  resolved  to  undergo  the 
torture.  Accordingly,  when  they  brought  cords,  as  usual, 
to  tie  him,  he  broke  them  three  several  times  like  a  twine- 
thread,  and  told  them  if  they  brought  cables  he  would  serve 
them  after  the  same  manner.  But,  however,  they  found 
means  to  tie  him  to  the  ground,  having  his  limbs  extended ; 
but  after  enduring  the  punishment  for  an  hour,  and  having 
three  or  four  hundredweight  put  on  him,  he  at  last  submitted 
to  plead,  and  was  carried  back,  when  he  pleaded  not  guilty.” 
The  Rev.  Mr.  Willette,  with  the  ordinary  of  the  prison,  in 
1776,  published  the  “Annals  of  Newgate,”  and  from  these  we 
learn  further  particulars  of  the  torture  of  the  highwayman 
Spigot.  “The  chaplain  found  him  lying  in  the  vault  upon  the 
bare  ground,  with  350  pounds  weight  upon  his  breast,  and 
then  prayed  with  him,  and  at  several  times  asked  him  why  he 
should  hazard  his  soul  by  such  obstinate  kind  of  self-murder. 
He  sometimes  lay  silent  under  the  pressure,  as  if  insensible  to 
the  pain,  and  then  again  would  fetch  his  breath  very  quick  and 
short.  Several  times  he  complained  that  they  had  laid  a 
cruel  weight  upon  his  face,  though  it  was  covered  with  nothing 
but  a  thin  cloth,  which  was  afterwards  removed  and  laid  more 
light  and  hollow;  yet  he  still  complained  of  the  prodigious 
weight  upon  his  face,  which  might  be  caused  by  the  blood 
being  forced  up  thither  and  pressing  the  veins  so  violently  as 
if  the  force  had  been  externally  on  his  face.  When  he  had 
remained  a  half  an  hour  under  this  load,  and  fifty  pounds 
weight  more  laid  on,  being  in  all  four  hundred,  he  told  those 
who  attended  him  he  would  plead.  The  weights  were  at  once 


564 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


taken  off,  the  cords  cut  asunder;  he  was  raised  up  by  two 
men,  some  brandy  put  into  his  mouth  to  revive  him,  and  he 
was  carried  to  take  his  trial.  ’  ’ 

The  last  case  of  pressing  in  England,  which  terminated 
fatally,  occurred  in  1667,  when  one  Major  Strangeways  was 
thus  put  to  death.  At  this  horrible  execution  several  of  the 
condemned  man’s  friends  were  present,  and,  when  he  signified 
that  he  was  ready,  piled  a  large  quantity  of  stone  and  iron 
upon  the  press,  but  he  still  lived.  Then  they  stood  upon  the 
press  themselves,  and  in  ten  minutes  the  wretched  man  had 
ceased  to  live.  In  1827  an  act  of  Parliament  provided  that, 
where  one  stood  mute,  a  plea  of  not  guilty  should  be  entered, 
and  the  trial  proceed. 

The  execution  of  the  condemned  persons  by  hanging  has 
been  common  throughout  a  large  portion  of  the  world  almost 
from  time  immemorial.  To  this,  in  the  olden  time,  was  added 
the  horrible  accessories  of  drawing  and  quartering.  This 
form  of  punishment  was  at  one  time  termed  “godly  butch¬ 
ery,’’  by  reason  of  the  divine  authority  which  was  quoted  for 
its  continuance.  So  great  an  authority  as  Lord  Coke  found 
abundant  precedents  in  the  Bible  to  support  and  justify  all  the 
horrid  details  of  hanging,  drawing  and  quartering.  The  gal¬ 
lows  of  the  Anglo-Saxons  consisted  of  two  upright  pieces  of 
timber  connected  by  a  cross-beam  over  which  the  culprit  was 
drawn  into  the  air  by  a  rope,  dying  of  strangulation.  During 
the  Midle  Ages  hanging  was  exceedingly  common,  the  whole 
country  being  dotted  with  gibbets.  “Every  town,  every 
abbey,  and  almost  every  large  manorial  lord,  ’  ’  says  Thomas 
Wright,  “had  the  right  of  hanging,  and  a  gallows  or  tree,  with 
a  man  hanging  upon  it,  was  so  frequent  an  object  in  the 
country  that  it  seems  to  have  been  considered  as  almost  a  nat¬ 
ural  object  of  a  landscape,  and  it  is  thus  introduced,  by  no 
means  uncommonly,  in  medieval  manuscripts.’’  In  the  reign 
of  Henry  VI.  of  England,  which  extended  over  thirty-eight 
years,  it  is  stated  that  72,000  criminals  were  executed.  In 
France  the  gallows  was  known  as  “the  lantern,’’ for  the  reason 
that  a  lantern  was  suspended  from  its  extended  arm. 

In  the  olden  time,  culprits  were  hanged  by  making  them 


CAPITAL  PUNISHMENT 


565 

stand  in  a  cart  beneath  the  gallows;  the  cart  being  withdrawn, 
the  doomed  man  was  left  hanging  by  the  neck.  In  more 
recent  times  this  and  similar  expedients  were  superseded  by  a 
falling  trap-door,  which  permitted  the  body  of  the  condemned 
to  be  projected  downward  by  its  own  gravity.  Other 
devices  pull  the  body  violently  into  the  air  by  means  of  heavy 
weights  attached  to  the  rope,  which  are  released  from  their 
fastenings  by  the  executioner,  and  allowed  to  fall. 

Hanging,  drawing  and  quartering  was  the  sentence  for  a 
long  time  imposed  upon  English  traitors.  It  was  in  the  fol¬ 
lowing  form:  “That  the  traitor  is  to  be  taken  from  the  prison 
and  laid  upon  a  sledge  or  hurdle — in  earlier  days  he  was  to  be 
dragged  along  the  surface  of  the  ground,  tied  to  the  tail  of  a 
horse — and  drawn  to  the  gallows  or  place  of  execution,  and 
then  hanged  by  the  neck  until  he  be  half-dead,  and  then  cut 
down,  and  his  entrails  to  be  cut  out  of  his  body  and  burnt  by 
the  executioner;  then  his  head  is  to  be  cut  off,  his  body  to  be 
divided  into  quarters,  and  afterwards  his  head  and  quarters  to 
be  set  up  in  some  open  place  as  directed.”  As  a  rule  the 
executioner  cut  open  the  chest  of  the  victim,  plucked  out  and 
held  up  the  heart  to  the  gaze  of  the  populace,  exclaiming, 
“Behold  the  heart  of  a  traitor!” 

Gibbeting,  or  hanging  in  chains,  was  long  practiced  in 
Europe,  particularly  in  England,  where  the  practice  has  come 
down  to  recent  times.  “In  atrocious  cases  of  murder,”  writes 
Blackstone,  “it  was  frequently  usual  for  the  court  to  direct  the 
murderer,  after  execution,  to  be  hung  upon  a  gibbet  where 
the  act  was  committed;  but  this  was  no  part  of  the  legal  judg¬ 
ment;  and  the  like  is  still  sometimes  practiced  in  the  case  of 
notorious  thieves.  This,  being  quite  contrary  to  the  express 
command  of  the  Mosaic  law,  seems  to  have  been  borrowed 
from  the  civil  law ;  which,  besides  the  terror  of  the  example, 
gives  also  another  reason  for  this  practice,  namely,  that  it 
is  a  comfortable  sight  to  the  relations  and  friends  of  the 
deceased.” 

As  to  whether  criminals  were  at  any  time  executed  in  Eng¬ 
land  by  being  hanged  alive  in  chains,  there  is  a  conflict  of 
opinion,  but  the  weight  of  authority  seems  to  be  in  favor  of 


566 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


the  affirmative.  Almost  every  district  of  England  has  pre¬ 
served  stories  of  men  being  hanged  alive  in  chains,  and  left  to 
die  of  exposure  and  starvation.  In  the  famous  “Chronicle  of 
England,”  written  by  Holinshed,  which  supplied  Shakespeare 
with  much  of  the  material  for  his  historical  plays,  and  which 
is  fairly  reliable,  it  is  stated:  “In  wilful  murder  done  upon 
pretended — premeditated — malice,  or  in  anie  notable  robbery, 
the  criminal  is  either  hanged  alive  in  chains  near  the  place 
where  the  act  was  committed,  or  else,  upon  compassion 
taken,  first  strangled  with  a  rope,  and  so  continueth  till  his 
bones  came  to  nothing.  Where  wilful  manslaughter  is  per¬ 
petrated,  besides  hanging,  the  offender  hath  his  right  hand 
commonly  stricken  off.” 

The  last  criminal  gibbeted  in  England  was  George  Cook,  a 
bookbinder,  at  Leicester.  This  was  in  1832.  The  custom 
was  abolished  on  July  25,  1834. 

Garroting  has  long  been  the  means  of  inflicting  the  death 
penalty  in  Spain  and  her  colonies.  The  word  is  derived  from 
the  Spanish  “garrote,”  which  signifies  a  stick  or  cudgel. 
Originally  it  consisted  merely  in  seating  the  condemned  in  a 
chair  fixed  to  a  post,  passing  a  strong  cord  around  his  neck 
and  then  strangling  him  by  twisting  the  cord  with  a  stick. 
In  this  form  it  very  much  resembles  the  use  of  the  bow-string 
for  a  like  purpose,  much  used  by  the  Mohammedan  nations; 
and  it  is  more  than  probable  that  the  Spanish  adopted  the 
garrote  from  the  Moors.  For  a  long  time  the  use  of  a  cord 
has  been  abandoned,  and  a  brass  collar  substituted.  This  con¬ 
tains  a  pointed  screw  which  the  executioner  turns  until  it 
enters  the  spinal  marrow  where  it  joins  the  brain,  producing 
instant  death.  In  the  days  of  the  Inquisition,  this  form  of 
death  was  granted  as  a  favor  to  those  who  recanted  their 
heresies,  in  lieu  of  burning  alive.  It  is  said  by  Llorente,  in 
his  “History  of  the  Inquisition,”  that  at  an  “Auto  da  Fe, ”  or 
burning,  at  Cuenca,  a  poor  Jew  who  had  received  this  most 
gracious  clemency,  having  noticed  the  bungling  manner  in 
which  the  executioner  performed  the  operation  on  two 
wretches  who  preceded  him,  said  to  the  former:  “Peter,  if 
you  are  likely  to  strangle  me  so  clumsily,  I  had  much  rather 


CAPITAL  PUNISHMENT  567 

be  burned  alive.”  Garroting  still  continues  the  official 
method  of  executing  criminals  with  the  Spaniards. 

One  of  the  most  diabolical  punishments  every  devised  by 
man  was  that  of  breaking  on  the  wheel,  which  was  long 
employed  in  France  and  Germany  for  the  execution  of  certain 
classes  of  criminals,  as  traitors  and  parricides.  By  this 
inhuman  method,  the  criminal  was  placed  upon  a  carriage 
wheel  with  his  arms  and  legs  extended  upon  the  spokes.  The 
wheel  was  then  revolved,  and  the  executioner  proceeded  to 
fracture  his  limbs  in  different  places  with  an  iron  bar,  until 
life  was  extinct.  Exactly  this  method  was  not  always  pursued. 
By  way  of  sooner  terminating  the  terrible  sufferings  of  the 
condemned,  the  executioner  would  sometimes  administer  what 
was  termed  “coups  de  grace,”  which  consisted  of  two  or  three 
blows  on  the  breast  or  stomach,  calculated  to  kill  the  victim. 
Sometimes,  in  France,  the  sentence  contained  a  provision 
that,  after  the  first  or  second  blow,,  the  sufferings  of  the  cul¬ 
prit  were  to  be  terminated  by  strangulation.  Executions  on 
the  wheel  continued  in  France  until  the  Revolution  of  1789. 
In  Germany  it  has  occasionally  been  inflicted  during  the  pres¬ 
ent  century,  in  cases  of  treason  of  an  aggravated  character. 

Decapitation  by  the  axe  and  sword  has  been  a  common 
means  of  executing  the  death  penalty  from  very  early  times. 
It  was  employed  in  the  East  in  remote  ages,  and  was  always 
regarded  as  one  of  the  most  honorable  modes  of  suffering 
death  at  the  hands  of  the  law.  It  was  early  used  in  France, 
and,  indeed,  all  European  nations.  Beheading  appears  to 
have  been  introduced  into  England  by  William  the  Conqueror, 
who  employed  it  as  a  means  of  executing  criminals  belonging 
to  the  nobility  and  higher  ranks  of  the  people.  The  first 
Englishman  to  go  to  the  block  was  Walter,  Earl  of  Hunt¬ 
ingdon,  Northampton  and  Northumberland,  in  1076.  Since 
that  time  very  many  of  the  nobility  of  England,  and  not  a  few 
royal  personages,  have  met  their  death  at  the  block.  One  of 
the  earliest  to  fall  was  Sir  William  Wallace,  the  Scottish 
patriot,  whose  name  is  known  to  every  schoolboy.  Betrayed 
by  some  of  his  own  countrymen,  he  was  delivered  to  King 
Edward  of  England  and  conveyed  to  England,  where,  after  a 


568 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


mockery  of  a  trial  for  treason,  he  was  beheaded,  August  23, 
1305.  His  death  was  accompanied  by  acts  of  singular  barbarity 
and  cruelty.  The  last  person  to  suffer  at  the  block  in  England 
was  Lord  Lovat,  who  was  decapitated  April  7,  1747,  for 
espousing  the  cause  of  the  Pretender,  though  before  that  time 
he  had  committed  almost  every  crime  in  the  calendar. 

Beheading  by  means  of  mechanical  contrivances  was  long 
in  use  in  certain  localities,  but  never  became  universal,  or  even 
general,  in  any  nation  until  the  invention  of  the  guillotine. 
One  of  the  most  remarkable  of  these  contrivances  was  used  at 
an  early  day  in  Halifax,  England,  and  was  known  as  the 
“Halifax  Gibbet.”  It  is  thus  described  in  Holinshed’s 
Chronicle,  already  quoted: 

“There  is  and  has  been,  of  ancient  time,  a  law,  or  rather  a 
custom,  at  Halifax,  that  whosoever  doth  commit  any  felony, 
and  is  taken  with  the  same,  or  confess  the  fact  upon  examina¬ 
tion,  if  it  be  valued  by  four  constables  to  amount  to  the  sum 
of  thirteen-pence  half-penny,  he  is  forthwith  beheaded  upon 
one  of  the  next  market  days — which  fall  usually  upon  the 
Tuesdays,  Thursdays  and  Saturdays — or  else  upon  the  same 
day  that  he  is  convicted,  if  market  be  holden.  The  engine 
wherewith  the  execution  is  done  is  a  square  block  of  wood,  of 
the  length  of  four  feet  and  a  half,  which  doth  ride  up  and 
down  in  a  slot,  rabet,  or  regall,  between  two  pieces  of  timber 
that  is  framed  and  set  upright,  of  five  yards  in  height.  In  the 
nether  end  of  a  sliding  block  is  an  axe,  keyed  or  fastened  with 
an  iron  into  the  wood,  which,  being  drawn  up  to  the  top  of  the 
frame,  is  there  fastened  by  a  wooden  pin — with  a  notch  made  in 
the  same,  after  the  manner  of  Samson’s  post — unto  the  middest 
of  which  pin  also  there  is  a  long  rope  fastened,  that  cometh 
down  among  the  people ;  so  that  when  the  offender  hath  made 
his  confession,  and  has  laid  his  neck  over  the  nethermost 
block,  every  man  there  present  doth  either  take  hold  of  the 
rope — or  putteth  forth  his  arm  so  near  the  same  as  he  can  get, 
in  token  that  he  is  willing  to  see  justice  executed — and  pulling 
out  the  pin  in  this  manner,  the  head  block  wherein  the  axe  is 
fastened  doth  fall  down  with  such  a  violence  that  if  the  neck  of 
the  transgressor  were  so  big  as  that  of  a  bull,  it  should  be  cut 


CAPITAL  PUNISHMENT 


569 


in  sunder  at  a  stroke,  and  roll  from  the  body  by  an  huge  dis¬ 
tance.  If  it  be  so  that  the  offender  be  apprehended  for  an  ox, 
sheep,  kine,  horse,  or  any  such  cattle,  the  self-same  beast  or 
other  of  its  kind  shall  have  the  end  of  the  rope  tied  somewhere 
unto  them,  so  that  they  being  driven,  do  draw  out  the  pin 
whereby  the  offender  is  executed.” 

Forty-nine  persons,  as  appears  from  the  Parish  register  at 
Halifax,  suffered  death  by  means  of  this  machine,  from  the 
20th  day  of  March,  1541,  the  earliest  recorded  execution,  to 
the  30th  day  of  April,  1650,  when  the  last  criminals,  Abraham 
Wilkinson  and  Anthony  Mitchel,  were  thus  deprived  of  life. 
The  gibbet  axe  is  still  preserved.  It  weighs  seven  pounds  and 
twelve  ounces,  is  ten  and  a  half  inches  in  length,  seven  inches 
broad  at  the  top,  and  nearly  nine  inches  at  the  bottom. 

The  “Scottish  Maiden”  was  another  mechanical  device  for 
decapitating  criminals.  It  was  not  an  independent  invention, 
but  was  after  the  directions  of  the  Earl  of  Morton,  Regent  of 
Scotland,  who  had  witnessed  an  execution  by  the  Halifax 
gibbet.  It  was  constructed  in  1565.  The  “Maiden”  was  not 
unlike  the  Halifax  gibbet,  after  which  it  was  modeled. 
According  to  Rogers,  its  peculiar  name  was  derived  from 
“mod-dun,”  a  Celtic  word  originally  signifying  the  place 
where  justice  was  administered.  According  to  others,  the 
name  “Maiden”  was  given  it  for  the  reason  that  it  was  a  long 
time  after  its  construction  before  it  was  first  employed  to 
behead-  a  criminal.  At  least  one  hundred  and  twenty  persons 
met  their  death  by  the  Maiden,  among  them  several  of  the 
noblest  men  in  Scotland,  as,  Sir  John  Gordon  of  Haddo,  Presi¬ 
dent  Spottiswoode,  and  the  Marquis  and  Earl  of  Argyle.  The 
latter  is  reported  to  have  said,  as  he  laid  his  head  upon  the 
block:  “This  is  the  sweetest  maiden  I  have  ever  kissed.” 
The  use  of  this  instrument  was  discontinued  in  1710.  It  is 
still  preserved  at  Edinburgh,  in  the  Museum  of  the  Society  of 
Antiquaries  of  Scotland. 

Of  all  the  modes  for  executing  criminals,  probably  the 
guillotine  has  excited  the  widest  interest.  This  is  not  so  much 
due  to  its  peculiar  construction  as  to  the  long  list  of  distin¬ 
guished  men  and  women  who  have  suffered  death  by  it,  par- 


57° 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


ticularly  during  the  “Reign  of  Terror”  that  disgraced  France, 
and  humanity,  in  the  latter  part  of  the  eighteenth  century. 

The  child  of  the  Revolution,  through  all  the  changes  and 
modifications  of  her  political  structure — from  the  Kingdom, 
through  the  Republic,  the  Directory,  the  Consulate,  the 
Empire,  down  to  the  Republic  of  our  own  day — France  has 
never  discarded  the  guillotine,  nor  allowed  its  polished  blade, 
like  the  sword  of  Hudibras,  to  grow  rusty  through  lack  of 
usage. 

When  the  “horrid  wheel”  and  its  attendant  iron  bar  were 
not  resorted  to,  decapitation  by  the  axe  and  sword  had  for 
ages  been  the  death  awarded  French  criminals  of  rank;  the 
gallows,  called  the  “lantern,”  being  reserved  for  the  common 
culprit.  The  cross,  the  stake,  quartering,  drawing,  boiling 
and  flaying  alive,  were  sometimes  resorted  to  as  already  indi¬ 
cated,  but  only  in  the  cases  of  regicides,  and  those  guilty  of 
peculiarly  atrocious  crimes. 

In  1789  Dr.  Joseph  Ignace  Guillotin,  a  physician  of  some 
note,  began  to  agitate  in  the  Assembly,  of  which  he  was  a 
member,  the  question  of  making  executions  uniform  and  by 
decapitation.  Having  no  machine  to  present  for  the  accom¬ 
plishment  of  the  work,  he  gained  time  by  suggesting  the  fol¬ 
lowing  article:  “In  every  case  of  capital  punishment,  the 
mode  of  execution  shall  be  the  same;  the  criminal  shall  be 
decapitated  by  means  of  a  mechanical  contrivance.”  This 
article  was  referred  to  a  committee,  and  did  not  become  a  law 
until  1791. 

As  the  article  did  not  provide  a  means  of  decapitation, 
Charles  Henri  Sanson,  the  executioner  of  Paris,  addressed  a 
memorial  to  the  minister  of  justice,  showing  the  difficulties 
attendant  upon  the  use  of  the  sword  and  axe,  and  recommend¬ 
ing  the  adoption  of  some  machine  that  would  keep  the  suffer¬ 
er’s  body  in  a  horizontal  position.  The  publication  of  this 
memorial  induced  Dr.  Guillotin  to  call  upon  Sanson,  and  many 
conferences  ensued.  Together  they  searched  the  criminal 
annals  of  Europe  for  descriptions  of  machines.  Four  engrav¬ 
ings,  three  German  and  one  Italian,  rewarded  their  labors,  but 
all  of  them  were  manifestly  imperfect  The  Italian  machine, 


CAPITAL  PUNISHMENT 


57i 


which  bore  the  date  1555,  was  called  the  “maunaia,  ”  and  con¬ 
sisted  of  a  large  axe  working  between  two  perpendicular 
boards,  which  was  allowed  to  fall  upon  and  sever  the  neck. 
Inferior  varieties  of  the  maunaia  were  found  to  have  been  used 
in  Scotland  and  Persia,  and  even  in  France,  Marshal  Mont¬ 
morency  having  been  executed  at  Toulouse  in  1631,  by  means 
of  a  sliding  axe;  but  the  investigators  do  not  seem  to  have 
learned  of  the  Halifax  gibbet. 

In  1790,  Sanson  had  formed  the  acquaintance  of  a  German 
engineer,  resident  at  Paris,  named  Schmidt.  The  executioner 
told  Schmidt  of  his  perplexity,  whereupon,  after  a  moment’s 
hesitation,  the  latter  took  a  piece  of  paper,  and  traced  thereon 
a  few  hurried  lines,  and  handed  the  drawing  to  the  execu¬ 
tioner.  It  was  the  guillotine ! 

Sanson  hastened  to  inform  Dr.  Guillotin  of  his  good  for¬ 
tune.  The  doctor  was  beside  himself  with  joy,  and  on  the 
thirteenth  of  April,  1791,  he  described  the  new  apparatus  to 
the  Assembly.  In  his  excitement  and  enthusiasm  he  declared 
that  the  culprit  would  only  feel  a  slight  freshness  upon  the 
neck,  and  added,  “With  this  machine  I  cut  your  head  off  in  a 
twinkling,  and  you  do  not  suffer!”  whereupon  the  Assembly 
burst  into  loud  peals  of  laughter,  and  for  a  moment  it  seemed 
that  the  doctor  had  ruined  his  cause.  When  the  merriment 
had  subsided,  however,  a  discussion  ensued,  and  Dr.  Antoine 
Louis,  the  king’s  physician,  was  appointed  to  inquire  into  the 
merits  of  the  machine. 

A  conference  between  Sanson,  Louis  and  Guillotin  I'esulted, 
at  which  the  king  himself  was  present.  After  his  Majesty  had 
examined  the  plan  of  Schmidt,  he  shook  his  head,  and 
remarked:  “The  knife  has  the  form  of  a  crescent;  do  you 
think  a  knife  thus  shaped  would  be  suitable  for  all  necks? 
There  are  some  which  it  certainly  would  not  cut.”  Sanson 
was  appealed  to,  and  agreed  with  the  king,  who,  smiling  with 
pleasure,  took  up  a  pen  and  changed  the  crescent  into  an 
oblique  line;  thus  actually  drawing,  with  his  own  kingly 
hand,  that  terrible  knife  which,  two  years  later,  was  to  sever 
the  neck  of  Citizen  Louis  Capet,  otherwise  King  Louis  XVI, 
of  France, 


572 


MURDER  IN  ALL  AGES 


On  March  7,  1792,  Dr.  Louis  submitted  his  report  to  the 
Assembly,  recommending-  the  adoption  of  the  machine  as 
drawn  by  Schmidt,  with  the  alternative  of  the  crescent  or 
oblique  knife.  On  March  20th  the  report  was  adopted,  and 
Dr.  Louis  requested  to  superintend  the  construction  of  the 
first  machine.  It  was  built  by  a  carpenter  named  Guidon,  at 
an  expense  of  5,500  francs.  When  completed,  Sanson  experi¬ 
mented  on  three  corpses,  two  being  successfully  decapitated 
with  the  oblique  knife,  while  the  crescent  failed  with  the  third. 
The  latter  was  accordingly  rejected,  and  that  suggested  by 
King  Louis  adopted.  A  week  later,  Sanson  tried  its  merits 
upon  a  thief  named  Pelletin,  the  first  victim  of  the  guil¬ 
lotine. 

The  machine  as  first  devised,  and  which  has  been  but 
slightly  modified,  is  constructed  as  follows:  Upon  a  scaffold, 
from  seven  to  eight  feet  in  height,  two  vertical  parallel  bars 
are  made  fast,  and  united  at  the  top  by  a  strong  cross-bar. 
To  this  cross-bar  an  iron  ring  is  attached,  through  which  is 
passed  a  rope  that  holds  in  position  an  iron  ram,  weighing 
from  sixty  to  seventy  pounds.  The  ends  of  the  ram  are 
arranged  to  work  in  grooves  in  the  vertical  bars,  which  retain 
it  in  position,  allowing  it  to  slide  up  and  down.  On  its  lower 
side  this  ram  is  armed  with  a  large  knife  set  in  an  oblique 
position,  to  strike  with  what  might  be  termed  a  “draw  cut.’’ 
To  a  heavy  board,  called  the  “weigh-plank,”  strong  straps  are 
attached  with  which  to  bind  the  criminal  under  the  arm-pits 
and  over  the  legs.  The  neck  is  placed  exactly  beneath  the 
blade  and  secured  in  position  by  means  of  two  cross-bars.  The 
ram,  released  by  prilling  a  cord,  descends  with  great  force,  the 
oblique  knife  severs  the  neck,  the  head  falls  into  a  receptacle 
filled  with  bran,  while  the  body  is  placed  in  a  wicker  basket 
lined  with  leather. 

Thus  the  guillotine,  though  a  synonym  for  horror  and 
despair,  had  its  origin  in  principles  of  humanity  and  genuine 
democracy.  Dr.  Guillotin,  who,  though  trained  to  the  art  of 
healing,  devoted  so  much  time  to  the  art  of  killing,  was  a 
genuine  humanitarian,  and  died  in  1814,  believing  that  he  had 
done  mankind  a  service  by  providing  a  means  of  execution 


CAPITAL  PUNISHMENT 


57,3 


swift,  certain  and  as  nearly  painless  as  the  nature  of  death 
admits. 

The  machine  was  at  first  called  the  Louisen,  and  Louisette, 
in  honor  of  Dr.  Louis,  but  the  song-writers,  a  potent  frater¬ 
nity  in  France,  dubbed  it  the  guillotine,  a  name  it  has  since 
borne. 

The  most  recent  addition  to  the  modes  of  execution  is 
“electrocution,”  or  depriving  a  criminal  of  life  bypassing  a 
powerful  current  of  electricity  through  his  body.  This 
method  has  been  adopted  in  New  York,  and  is  now  the  only 
mode  employed  in  executing  the  death  sentence  in  that  State. 
The  culprit  is  seated  in  an  insulated  chair,  and  a  broken  wire 
connected  through  his  body,  the  application  being  made  on  the 
lower  portion  of  his  legs  and  the  back  of  his  head,  at  the  base  of 
the  brain.  At  an  appointed  signal,  a  strong  current  of  elec¬ 
tricity  is  turned  upon  the  wire,  which  produces,  as  it  is 
claimed,  almost  instant  death.  This  method  has  met  with 
some  opposition,  notably  by  electricians  and  electrical  com¬ 
panies,  who  claimed  that  discredit  was  being  placed  upon  their 
profession  and  their  business,  but  this  has  now  well-nigh  sub¬ 
sided,  and  the  mode  seems  permanently  established,  and 
seems  likely  to  be  quite  generally  adopted  in  the  future. 

The  office  of  public  executioner  has  always  been  regarded 
with  a  feeling  akin  to  horror,  and  those  who  have  filled  the 
position  have  generally  been  of  a  low  and  brutal  order,  some¬ 
times  actual  criminals  themselves.  In  many  countries,  the 
office  has  been,  by  custom  rather  than  law,  hereditary.  This 
was  particularly  true  of  the  German  States.  In  France  seven 
generations  of  the  Sansons,  one  of  whom  has  already  been 
referred  to  in  this  chapter,  were  the  public  executioners  of 
Paris.  These  are  popularly  styled  “Monsieur  de  Paris.”  It 
is  said  that  the  offices  of  executioner  in  the  early  days  of 
England  descended  from  father  to  son.  In  the  United  States 
there  is  no  such  office,  the  duties  falling  to  it  being  discharged 
by  the  sheriffs  of  the  different  counties,  who  acquire  no  dis¬ 
grace  from  the  circumstance,  it  being  merely  an  incident  of 
their  official  duties. 

For  the  most  part,  the  death  penalty  is  now  inflicted  only 


as  a  punishment  for  murder,  treason  or  piracy,  though  in  some 
countries  the  list  is  longer.  Blackstone,  writing  about  1765, 
says  that  160  different  offenses  were  punishable  by  death  in 
England  at  that  time.  More  than  four-fifths  of  these  orig¬ 
inated  with  the  first  three  Georges.  Capital  punishment  was 
abolished  about  the  year  1874  in  Switzerland,  Portugal,  Hol¬ 
land  and  Roumania,  and  is  not  at  present  inflicted  in  some  of 
the  United  States. 

The  comparatively  few  crimes  at  present  punished  capitally, 
together  with  the  more  humane  methods  of  administering  the 
death  penalty,  argue  very  strongly  in  favor  of  what  the  author 
has  tried  to  make  this  volume  prove,  viz. :  that,  under  the 
influence  of  religion  and  civilization,  men  are  rising  in  the 
scale  of  moral  being ;  that  the  worst  portion  of  the  history  of 
mankind  is  a  thing  of  the  past,  and  that  a  brighter  era  has  at 
last  dawned  upon  a  sin-laden  world. 


THE  END 


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